Long time no see
by plengpoonyapa
Summary: What if Barron isn't the leader of the mad experiment?What if he is just one of many servants working for someone who is more wicked, more heartless, and even closer to one of the most powerful and youngest ymbryne? 'Who the hell are you' Enoch asks.'Children, hasn't my sister ever taught you that polite persons should not be rude to others?Well, Mr. Bentham delighted to meet you'
1. Chapter 1

Hello my readers, well first of all, as always, thank you for reading my works. This one is another version of the ending scenes in the movie-verse of Miss Peregrine's home for peculiar children. I can't tell you much but I hope you will like it.

This fic is a sequel of _Goodbye, my children_ , my other fiction. I didn't upload it as the second chapter because I think now, it's not about Miss P saying goodbye only. It's more than that. Much more!

As always, please leaves some comments after reading it. You can ask, suggest, tell me what you feel, or even tell me what you don't like. For those who don't have an account, I can see your review as a guest, but I can't reply due to the system. So, sorry for that, but please know that every review, including ones I cannot reply, means so much to me.

Obviously, I don't own any characters in this fiction. They're from Miss Peregrine's home for peculiar children.

Now, just enjoy!

* * *

Should one ever has his or her heart ripped out, one may understand an ounce of pain Alma Peregrine feels right now.

After closing the door, the headmistress whips around to face her most unwelcoming visitor and his hostage, her face turns cold and stern, tears coursing down her sharp cheekbones.

'Now, let him go.'

Even a three-year-old kid can tell that this isn't a begging at all. But it is an order, a command that everyone, including any ambitious wight, should follow without any conditions. Barron's wise enough to gradually let go of Jake. His white eyes lock on the hawk-like ones. He moves backward and open a metal cage on a small table near the door.

Miss Peregrine looks at the cage. It's just an ordinary birdcage with a perch, but to Alma, it looks more like her coffin. Just looking at it from afar can make the ymbryne's lungs twist and, all of a sudden, it becomes so hard to breathe like the air in the hall has disappeared. Although the Bird's never been strangled before, she's quite certain that it's not different from what she feels right now at all, and she can't imagine what will happen to her in that cage.

She takes a deep breath, her chest hurts. She tries to blink her tears back before turning to see the boy she sacrifices herself for. He's her precious children's last hope. They need him more than her. After all, he is their eyes.

She walks closer, staring at the boy. His face reminds Alma of her dear Abe, the little boy who fled from the cruel war. These bright blue eyes once looked up at her and made her very happy. They were so sweet, warm, and brave, but most important, they could see what other pairs of eyes can't see. They could see a monster, creepy Hollowghasts that slaughter everything in their path. It's the peculiarity which could be considered both the gift and the curse. But no matter this boy is blessed or cursed, he is now one of her charges and also, the last gift she can give to her children.

Her stern look fades away when her face is just a few inches from Jake's. The boy can see so many emotions hidden under those piercing green eyes - worry, anger, sadness, fear. He wonders how the woman in front of him can still hold herself like this when those feelings are trying their best to blow her up from the inside out. At that moment, in Jake's eyes, Miss P is just a small woman, a human who can be vulnerable like others. Yes, she's a fighter, a warrior who will fight to her death, but a warrior can fear as well, and most of the time, not for his or her life, but for his or her loves. She looks too tired to carry this large burden on her shoulder. She has lived in her own prison for almost a century just for her children's safety and this is definitely not what she deserves.

She lifted her talon-like hands up, almost touching the boy's face, but not.

'Promise me one thing Jake,' her lips are trembling uncontrollably while these painful words slipping out, 'that you will try to look after them all.'

She has never put her children's life in anyone's hand before. Her mouth tastes bitter, her limbs are numb like they've been torn apart from her torso. She feels like she has given her soul to Jake's protection. Her core has gone for good. Alma could faint anytime soon, but better be in the cage or somewhere else, not here, not now.

Jake looks blank at first. Miss Peregrine knows very well how heavy the burden she's asked him to carry is, but she has no choice. She doesn't even have any power left to try to convince Jake that he can do it. But the boy is tough, as tough as his grandfather. His eyes flashes some sense of confidence. Although he still looks hesitant, Alma knows that he will try his best to help her children even before the boy says,

'I promise.'

And that is. That's what she wants to hear most. That's all she can ask for. She wants to thank him but a large blade comes between her and Jake before she could say anything. Barron's getting bored of this. He wants to leave now. Someone very important is waiting for his arrival at Blackpool. He better not keep that person waiting for too long, if he still loves his life.

Miss Peregrine is back into her unfriendly mode again. She steps backward, looking at her visitor, and closes her eyes. When she opens them, she raises her arms up. They swiftly turn into blue wings and when she jumps, there's nothing human left. The peregrine falcon cries sadly and flies around the hall, preparing to enter the cage. Now, it looks scarier when she is the creature of freedom. She has never understood how any birds could stand the cage or how it feels to be in there. Well, now she is about to have the firsthand experience.

Dizziness might be the first thing birds can feel on a perch when the metal door is closed and locked. Then, chills will run down their spine and make them sick. Their chest will burn and their lungs will twist until they're suffocating. At least, these are what Alma feels right now, but she doesn't regret to do so for it could buy her children's time and chance.

She sees Barron bring Jake into the parlor. She sees him 'boo' her children. She can hear their shriek and his laughter. She will never ever forgive anyone who persecutes her children. Never.

He closes the door and turns to her, smiling from ear to ear.

'Let's begin our journey, shall we?'

He bows like a gentleman, but Alma hates every specimen of him. Her feathers are raised and if she could hiss like a cat, she might do it.

'Uh oh, our little Mama bird is getting angry now,' his voice turns childish, his face looks sillier.

'Don't worry my dear Miss Peregrine. I'll try my best to make sure that you'll arrive there in one piece.' He lifts the cage up and shakes it violently. Alma screeches.

'What? I don't get a bird language. Well, I did say in one piece but might not be in a very good quality, though, I guess,' he grins, whistling when he leaves the house with what he comes for.

* * *

What is worse than a seasick is a seasick plus, well, 'a cagesick.' Miss Peregrine's talons can't even grip the perch steadily. She felt paralyzed, and it's getting worse when she's on the water. Though her head is spinning like somebody has just rolled her over and over, her eyes still fix at Cairnholm. From here, she cannot see her children, cannot feel them, and cannot know what they're doing or what they will be. The island is getting smaller and smaller, and she can't help thinking of the first day she arrived there. How long has it been since that day to this day? How long has she chosen to walk on this path, to be an ymbryne?

Alma stares at Cairnholm until it's gone for good. It's so strange that the further she is from her children, the fresher her memory becomes. Now, it's like her wards are laughing beside her. They're playing not far from her in the garden, singing, clapping their hands. This memory once made Alma so happy and so proud of herself that she could bring a smile to her children's face, that she could share both their sorrow and joy. But now, this memory is killing her, and Alma can't hold her tears back any longer. She screeches to say goodbye to the island, to people there, to her home, and although it's still hard to admit, to her beloved children.

'Dear me, dear me, such a very melancholy voice you have.'

That pulls Alma back to the real situation here. She almost forgets she's not alone on this boat. He's here as well. She doesn't turn to see him, not because she fears him, but she just doesn't want to. And for the first time, she thinks Emma's quite right about this boat, it's too small.

'You're a very pretty bird, has anyone ever told you that?' Barron moves closer when he sees that she doesn't respond to his words. 'No wonder they say you're one of the most beautiful ladies in your hometown, a raven-haired beauty of the Benthams.'

The wight grins when the Bird turns to face him. He can get her attention at last.

'What? Did you forget your own last name? Do I have to remind you that before you gave yourself to the silly council, you were once a little lady born into one of the richest families in London?'

Alma looks away. The last thing she wants to think about now is her past. She hasn't thought about her late parents for so long because every time she thinks about them, their last scream before they were killed will resonate in her mind for hours. They were killed because of her, and she couldn't let that go for quite some time. She used to blame herself for that and used to be haunted by her guilt until she found her children. With them, she could move on, she could be freed from her past. Their innocence revives her, their laughter lights her up, but now, now they're gone and suddenly, Alma is chilled to the bone.

'You know what,' Barron touches the cage, 'I think perhaps we should come back and bring your children with us, so they - OUCH!'

The wight jolts back, his finger's bleeding. Although the bird in front of him can't speak, her eyes read _don't you dare touch my children_. Barron forces himself to smile. It looks creepy, but the bird doesn't move. He swears if this woman wasn't so important to his life, he would enjoy breaking her wings one at a time, whistling while she screams.

'That is not..quite ladylike, Miss Peregrine,' his voice turns lower like he's trying his best to calm himself down, 'I must say both of you are quite alike, always rude. Luckily, the other's quite well-mannered.'

Alma takes a deep breath. She always prepares for this moment, but she has never been ready to face it. There are two persons in her life that she hates most but at the same time, loves as well. She wants to see them but she knows it's better not to.

'Alma! Stop cheating. You shouldn't turn into a bird, it's not fair,' said a boy before he, too, turned into a bird, chasing the smaller one.

'Don't hurt her, Jack!' Another boy on the ground shouted. His skin was so pale, his cheek hollowed. There were dark circles around his eyes.

The bigger peregrine falcon could catch the little one up in a minute. He pounced her and the little peregrine had lost her balance. She fell down, turning back into a human when she was on the ground, her arm's bleeding.

It still hurts, although now it's just a tiny scar. Alma has never understood why he hates her so much, but again, she knows nothing of him. She has never known what he's capable of and each day it seems like he keeps going beyond his limit, becoming stronger, greater, but less human.

She might have fallen back to her past for so long because when Alma comes back to the present, the Blackpool Tower is there already. Barron parks the boat at the pier and climbs up first before getting the cage, careful not to be pecked again.

'Well, welcome to the family reunion, Miss Peregrine,' he looks at her, his white eyes pop out of their sockets, 'or shall I call you, Miss Alma Lefay Bentham?'

And then he walks to the tower which is as red as blood.

* * *

Please, say something. I die to read your comments. Thank you so much that you have read it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, my readers. Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, but I'm so busy trying to finish my homework and everything.

Thank you very much for every review, follow, and favorite. They are like trophies for every author. I appreciate them so much.

Again, please leave some comments below. It can be anything, some interesting plot suggestion, what you feel, what you like or don't like, ANYTHIN! Due to some problems in the system, I may not be able to answer your review right now. So sorry for that. But, I promise I'll answer them as soon as I can or as soon as the system functions properly again.

Special thanks to all of my fans who have read all of my fictions. I don't know what to say. I'm so grateful and so glad that you like all of my works.

Well now, I'm just going to let you go and enjoy this latest chapter. Thank you again every reader. Thank you so much!

* * *

Chapter II

The children have never imagined this could happen in their repeated life, the sudden attack that turns everything upside down and steals their beloved guardian from them. They're hopeless for their hope has been captured in the very small cage somewhere far from them. Life without Miss Peregrine is so unfamiliar to them that they don't even know whether this is real or not. They cling together in this darkest hour, keeping one another warm in the dark ball room of the Augusta. No one says anything. They absolutely have no idea what's waiting in the mainland. They don't even know whether they will get there in time for their ymbryne. Although no one says it out loud, all of them fear to their heart they will lose Miss P for good.

The twins lean against Olive, quiet but awake. The fire girl looks into an emptiness in front of her. Horace stays still like a statue, his face looks more tired. Beside him, Fiona and Hugh sit hand in hand, Hugh's bees don't even buzz. Millard is there as well. No one knows what he's doing when the boy doesn't move or say a word. Bronwyn pulls her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forth like when she sat in Miss Peregrine's lap on the rocking chair. The tough girl doesn't feel tough at all now. Her strength is gone, and she doesn't know it will come back soon or not. Claire's in Enoch's arms. It's so strange that of all the children in the home, Claire can find her second shelter in Enoch, and the teenage boy never refuses her. His face is stern exactly like his headmistress when she gave him a severe reprimand. It's quite boring, all of her regulations, but Enoch'd give his all to be scolded again, to see that strict face of her when she says _how many times have I told you, polite persons do not..._

Emma leans on Jake's shoulder. The floating girl's thinking about that day when they lost Victor. They all stayed like this, clinging together in the parlor, crying like a baby until they were tired and fell asleep. She can still remember in the morning they woke up on the floor and found themselves covered with their own blanket from their bedroom. Little Claire and Bronwyn even had their own teddybear in their arms. Breakfast was served beautifully as always on the table, although the cook's eyes are swollen and quite red. There's a bowl of porridge and a glass of fresh orange juice for Victor as well, although his chair's empty. It was hard enough for Emma and her friends, and the girl couldn't imagine how hard it was for the one who loved the boy like he was her own son. But Miss Peregrine had never failed to take care of her children no matter what. Everything went on without any changes, of course, for the children's own best.

Jake feels like he has lost all of his internal organs as if his body's hollow. He feels sick, not because of the sea, but because the burden on his shoulder is so heavy that he wonders how Miss Peregrine can do this for almost a century. To care for one's safety or even oneself is hard enough, but this, to care for eleven children's is, in Jake's opinion, impossible. He doesn't say it out loud that he thinks we're going to lose, but he's quiet sure all of them know. Isn't it obvious enough, twelve children versus those wights and hollows? But sometimes, we just want to cling on what we want to, not what it will be, let that lie deceive us so that we can remain ourselves a little bit longer, so that we can hope, though our hope is very forlorn.

* * *

They dock the ship not far from the abandoned beach. It's getting darker and colder outside that the young ones have to hug themselves tighter, though Olive's fire is there.

'Alright,' Jake begins, 'I think some of us should cut through the wood first to see how we can get into the tower without being seen.'

No one says anything. Some of them look at Jake like he's their new ymbryne, and that doesn't make make him feel more confident at all.

'I should go. Because I can see them,' he continues and looks around for some volunteers. He almost sighs with relief when Emma steps up.

'I'll go. Just in case you get lost, so you can send me up,' the girl holds his hand. She squeezes it to remind him that he's not alone. _We are all in this together,_ her eyes tell him.

'And I think you need a fire in there,' Olive gives Jake a smile. Her new friend needs help, and if she can, she will not hesitate to do so.

'An invisible spy is quite important as well,' Millard says and starts putting his clothes off, 'though I have to say it must be really cold outside.'

'So I guess I have to be a nanny then, huh?' Enoch doesn't even wait for an answer. Of course, he doesn't enjoy the idea of being left behind, but these little children need someone to protect them as well, and since there's not much he can do in the wood, he better stay here, saving his strength for the war which is about to begin. However, the little ones don't think like that.

'But we want to save Miss P, too!' Little Claire protests.

'Yes, I can help as well!' Little Bronwyn joins her, while the twins make strange noise.

'Children,' Enoch turns to see them, 'we are going to save Miss Peregrine for sure, but now, we have to know first how to get in there. If you really want to help her, you have to be patient and wait till they come back, understand?'

Jake and Emma look at each other in amazement. If there's to be a male ymbryne, Enoch must be the first one on the list. He's surrounded by the little kids and his face looks exactly like Miss Peregrine's when she gives an order. More importantly, the kids listen to him. They all nod and sit down on the floor.

'I think I should be here,' says Hugh, 'My bees can protect them.'

'So I'll be here with Hugh and Enoch,' Fiona affirms.

'I'll slow you down if I go, so I better stay,' Horace looks so weary as if he hasn't slept for a month. The boy sits down beside the young ones and closes his eyes, just resting for a few seconds, not sleeping.

'Okay. Good,' Jake grabs Miss P's crossbow. It's getting heavier every time he has to use it. 'We will be back in a few minutes, I guess. Take care.'

That's the first time Enoch gives Jake a nod.

Outside, it's not cold. It's _freezing_. Jake doesn't know how the welcoming warmth of September 3, 1943 could disappear this fast. Perhaps, it's his heart that is frozen, not the weather. He leads the others out of the ship into the dark wood near the beach. They walk in silence, looking around to make sure they're safe from any unwelcoming guests. The last thing they want now is to be captured since the beginning of this unplanned mission. That must tear their hope into pieces.

Olive creates a fire ball on her hand. The fire girl can hear Millard walking beside her and she can't help thinking how useful it is to be invisible like him. Though there's no mirror around, Olive can tell her face must look frightened. She wished she could have been invisible so that she can pretend to be brave, to be more confident with what she's doing right now. She believes in Jake, yes, she does, but what is about to happen is still dreadful. She fears for other children but more importantly, she fears for her ymbryne.

The girl knows her Miss P isn't just an ordinary ymbryne. Not only is she the youngest one, but also, the most powerful ymbryne the peculiardom has ever witnessed according to what Miss Avocet said. If other ymbrynes are so valuable to this experiment, what could happen to the ymbryne like Miss P? Olive doesn't even dare think about that.

'Are you okay, Olive?' Emma asks, placing her hand on Olive's shoulder.

'I'm fine. I'm just...,' Olive can't say it out. She doesn't want to admit that what she thinks can be one of many horrible possibilities that could happen to her headmistress. And it seems like Emma understands that quite well since the girl gives her 'hot' friend a very assuring look,

'We will save her,' Emma says. 'We will save her, Olive.'

Olive gives the floating girl a nod and a half smile. She wants to believe that with all her heart, but she's too reasonable to do so. Maybe, many years with Enoch have turned her to be as pessimistic as he is, seeing the world darker than it should be. _Maybe, things are not going to be that terrible. Maybe, we, twelve teenagers and children, can really win this battle and save Miss P. Maybe. Just maybe._

As calm as Emma might look, the girl's dying inside. She has absolutely no idea how she can rescue her ymbryne from those monsters. If Miss P were here, everything would be solved in just a second. But again, if Miss P were here, they would not be in this situation in the first place. They would be in the parlor, watching Horace's dream and Miss P would stand there behind them, watching over them as always. For bird's sake, Emma doesn't know how many times she has to remind herself that now Miss P has been captured, and it's no good thinking about what would have happened, if her headmistress hadn't been taken.

For the first time in many decades, the floating girl's limbs are so heavy that she may no longer need her lead shoes. Emma's mind races, trying desperately to find anything that might be of use, but nothing comes up. Every minute she has wasted, Emma can feel Miss P's life slipping away, and her heart hurts so bad just imagining life without her beloved headmistress, her true mom who saved her from the cruelty of this world. Hot tears stings her eyes, but she needs to be strong. There's no place for weakness right now. _Miss P is waiting, Emma!_

'I think I should go up,' Emma suggests. They're going no where since everywhere looks exactly the same, and also, she needs some fresh air to rejuvenate her brain.

Jake gives her a nod. He can't see any better ideas than this, so the boy ties a rope around the girl's waist and send her up.

It's better up here. At least, the drizzle can freshen Emma a little bit. But when it reminds her of the old day when she walked home with Miss Peregrine under the black umbrella, the girl can't hold her tears back anymore. She misses her ymbryne so much, and she may start crying like a little baby, if Jake's voice doesn't interrupt her train of thought first.

'What can you see there?'

Emma clears her throat and tries her best to keep her voice even,

'Uhhh..the tower..is there, I can see it. We just have to w-'

All of them whip around at once, can't believe their own ears.

'Did you hear that?' Millard asks, stepping closer to Jake and Olive.

There's no need to answer. The barking can be heard very clear now. Yes, it might be some stray dogs, but Jake is quite sure there's none of them at the pier when he left.

'IT'S THEM!' He shouts and pulls Emma down. Jake takes her hand, and tells Millard to pick Emma's shoes up. Then, they all run.

 _How stupid he is!_ That ship is larger than a house and he just docked it there, thinking it could be his shelter or something, hidden from those monster eyes? _Oh, Jake, you couldn't be more stupid than this._

They follow the barking until it's gone. Maybe, their friends might be able to take care of what has just happened. After all, they have a swarm of bees, the razor teeth, and the bad-tempered puppeteer with them. It can't be that easy for the wights, right? Unless they travel with guns and hollows.

And they do. When Jake, Emma, Olive, and Millard enters the lounge of the Augusta, their friends were all gone, all of them, Little Claire, Bronwyn, the twins, Hugh, Fiona, Horace, even Enoch. There's no blood nor bodies without eyeballs, so at least, their friends are probably still alive.

At first, Jake feels relieved, but then, he isn't quite sure what is better, being killed, or being invited to join the insane experiment that gave birth to the Hollowghasts.

* * *

Enoch has never known before how hard it is to walk while one hand carries a little girl, and another holds one of the twins's hands. He's seen Miss P did this for a million times already, and he definitely can't understand how she managed to do so without tripping up. And she even walks down the stairs like this sometimes, FOR BIRD'S SAKE, he has to warn her next time she does that. _If_ there's next time.

Thanks to these wights, he and the children are under the Blackpool Tower now. At gunpoint, to be specific. One at his back, one at Hugh's head, and one at Bronwyn. That's quite enough to force eight peculiar kids to behave for a while, isn't it?

'Well, well.' It's Barron. He's waiting in the circle room that looks exactly like the circus. He smiles broadly from ear to ear. His white eyes glitter with happiness. He looks like a boy who has just got a new toy.

'And I thought all of you are dead. How silly I am!' He grins and steps closer to Enoch. 'Well, but apparently, I'm not totally wrong, unless Malthus had missed something.'

The wight who brings the children here shakes his head.

'There are only eight children in the ship. I've searched the entire ship already,' he reports.

Barron frowns, but then, smiles again.

'Good, Malthus. I hope what you said is true.'

He turns to see his captives and fakes a very sad face, which, in the children's eyes, is extremely ugly.

'Oh my poor little children, I'm truly sorry. My condolences on the loss of your beloved friends.'

Little Claire almost objects, but Enoch holds her back. The element of surprise might be helpful for Jake and the rest.

'And I think soon I'll have to express my _sincere_ condolences again for the loss of your Miss Peregrine.'

Enoch almost runs into Barron, but a wight behind him pulls him back, pressing the gun at the boy's neck instead. Barron laughs out loud and claps his hands.

'If you touch her,-' Enoch clenches his teeth.

'Oh, I assure you, boy, no one here will dare to touch her, unless _he_ says so.'

' _He?_ '

Barron smirks and looks over Enoch's shoulder, bowing like a very loyal dog.

Enoch turns to see three wights who have just entered the room. Two of them wear very worn-out clothes and no shoes, so it's not hard at all to assume that they have just transformed into a wight a few hours ago. The other, however, is in his best. He wears very fine suit with a little boutonnière on his left chest. His shoes are shiny black like they've been polished again and again. His raven hair is slicked back neatly and it makes his face look paler as if he is a ghost or something. His eyes are very sharp and, of course, white. Enoch hates every specimen of this man, but he feels like he has known this wight before. Something of this wight seems to be so familiar to the boy. _But how could I know him?_

'A wonderful trip, sir?' Barron asks the new comer, and if Enoch's ears can still function properly, he thinks he senses fear in Barron's voice.

'Yes, I guess,' that wight answers. His voice is so smooth, but also, so cold as if it's a warning that this man isn't a man you should mess with.

'At least, Eric and Ben could have enough eyes to turn back,' he continues. He speaks so slow like time isn't important for him.

'And what about the task I've asked you to accomplish, Mister Barron?' He walks pass the children like they're not there. The more he gets closer to Barron, the clearer Enoch can see fear in Barron's eyes.

'Oh, she is here, sir. Caged as you've asked for,' Barron replies at once. It's so obvious that he's trying his best to please that wight.

'Let her go!'

This time, Enoch is to obsessed with the pale wight that he cannot stop Claire in time. The little girl's voice draws both wights' attention, and for the pale one, he seems like he has just noticed the children are here.

Barron just stands still while the other glides towards the children. He doesn't smile. Actually, his face is so emotionless. Enoch is glaring at him dangerously and he looks back. His eyes can't tell the boy anything, but they remind him of someone, someone he knows very well, _but who?_

'And who are these lucky children? Supper for today?' The wight asks indifferently.

'Oh...,' Barron smiles and proudly presents his success, 'they're _her_ children, sir. The rest of them, in fact.'

That's when Enoch sees the wight in front of him grins. And for some reasons, that grin is creepier than any corpses Enoch has worked with. He holds Little Claire tighter and steps in front of other children, standing between them and this poker-faced wight.

The wight stops a few inches before Enoch, his deadly eyes lock on the boy's. Then, he turns his head to the little girl in the boy's arms, and asks politely,

'What's your name, my dear?'

Claire's about to cry, obviously, and Enoch will not let that happen. Not here. Not in front of this wight.

'And who the hell are you?' Enoch asks, turning the wight's attention to him instead.

'Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk..child,' Caul tilts his head a little bit. 'Hasn't my sister ever taught you polite persons should not be rude to others?'

A brief moment of silence swallows the group of children when they have realized who he is. Enoch can feel his heart beat faster like it's going to pop out of his ribs in a minute. There's no need for further explanation at all. _How comes I didn't recognize it, this pair of sharp eyes?_ It's the pair of eyes that looks into his everyday. It's the pair of eyes that watches over them every minute. It's Miss Peregrine's, or to put it correctly, it looks exactly like Miss Peregrine's.

'But since you've asked, Mister Bentham delighted to meet you.'

Mister Bentham doesn't offer Enoch a handshake at all, and although he does, Enoch's quite sure he won't accept it.

'Where is Miss Peregrine?' The boy asks, gritting his teeth in silent but quite obvious fury.

'My dear sister is at home now, with her beloved brothers. Well, think about it, if she is, well, your 'dear mother', does that make me your uncle, children?' The wight raises his eyebrow, pretending to be so eager to know the answer.

'Go to hell, wight!' Enoch growls. _Language, Enoch!_ Yes, if she were here, she would say that, even though it's the wight he's talking to.

The smile on the wight's face slowly disappears, but then, Mister Bentham just laughs. It's the coldest laugh Enoch has heard as if this crazy man has just eaten a whole big bucket of ices. The boy doesn't want to admit it but he cannot lie to himself. Deep in his heart, fear bubbles. Now, he can still hide it, but for how long?

'Children, children, my sister must have forgotten to teach you how to be polite,' the wight stares at them all. 'I'm so disappointed in her.'

'No!' It's Bronwyn, followed by Fiona, 'she is the best mother one could ask for!'

'Yes! And a wight like you has nothing on her in every possible way.' It's Horace, and that sentence of his turns the wight's bright face into the very scary one.

Mister Bentham doesn't say anything more, and although that's good to the children's ears, they can't help feeling intimidated when the wight walks around the room for a while, seeming like he's chewing on something.

'Mister Barron,' finally, he calls one of his minions. 'How rude we are, greeting these wonderful children of my sister's like this.'

Barron seems blank at first, but then grins in satisfaction when his leader continues,

'I'm certain they want to...let's just say, play some games, our games.'

Mister Bentham turns to face the children again, smirking crazily like a lunatic.

'Do you want to play a game, children?'

* * *

How was it? Please at least say something! I just want to know what you think about this chapter. Thank you again for reading it.


	3. Chapter 3

Author note: Hi my readers,

First, I apologize for being gone for so long like a century Lol! I'm so addicted to fluffy stuffs but now, the dark side of me has returned.

Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites. Now, I'll come back and continue this story as far as it can go.

And pleasee, I die to know what you think about it, what you like, or even what you don't like. Thank you in advance.

Now, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter III

Alma's waiting. For what, she doesn't know. She's passed the point of claustrophobia already. This little cage seems to be a lot less scary compared to what she's about to face. She doesn't move nor blink. Although she is alone in this dim room, she can feel dangers lurking around. There are no hollows here, she's confident, but they might come anytime soon. But in her mind, she doesn't care what those wights are going to do to her. All she worries is what they are going to do to her children, to her sweet souls. It hurts her, staying here, can't do anything, just imagining what will happen to them and there are so many _unpleasant_ possibilities that she can come up with.

She hates waiting here. But again, she fears what will happen at the end of her waiting as well. She knows _he_ is here now. Somehow, she can feel it. After all, despite what he has done, he's still her brother. She can sense his bloodthirsty instinct, and his rotten soul. The last thing she wants is his hand on her children's neck. Whatever he wants to do, whatever his plan is, she has to make sure her children will be safe.

She heard the loud creaking sound of the metal door in front of her. Someone is coming. _No._ Two people are coming. She can remember her children's footsteps. These are not theirs. The first person's footsteps are what she has just heard a few hours ago when he raided her house, but another person's, she can't believe after all these years, after all what he has become, his footsteps are still the same. She raises her head a bit and it's not hard at all to see through the darkness, but when the light is on, it's like her worst nightmare has come true.

There, in front of her, stand two men in their best suit.

Alma doesn't care how large Barron's smile is for at that moment, she's staring at another man. Coldly. Dangerously.

He gives her a smile, a very fake one that doesn't fit his face at all. He bends down until his aquiline nose is just an inch from her beak, and Alma swears had there been no iron bars between her and him, his face would have bled so bad by now.

'Hello, Alma.'

That's the first time in almost a century that she hears his voice. It's still pretentious as always, sounding so kind, but filled with venom in every word.

'I must say,' he grins, 'long time no see.'

She would have no problem at all if she didn't see him a bit longer or forever. Suddenly, every scar on her body that are his work just becomes painful again. She can still feel his hand pulling her feathers and his claws sinking deep into her flesh.

'Fear, Alma?' He chuckles. That's another thing she hates. If there is such a person who always knows what she feels or thinks as if he's sitting in her mind, it's definitely _him._

'Please, don't be,' his voice sounds so soft and comforting. 'This is just the beginning, my sis.'

He, then, lifts her cage up and walks to another room. When he turns on the light, Miss Peregrine can see what is waiting for her.

In the middle of the room, there is the large golden bird cage. It's large enough to fit all of her children and herself or even a few Hollows. The good thing is it's empty. It's just an ordinary cage. No chains, no dangerous things at all.

Caul opens the cage and walks into it. He locks the door and places her cage on the floor, before crouching down.

'Now now, my dear. I'm going to let you out, but you have to be a good girl, alright?' He waits, still smiling creepily.

'Do we have a deal?' He asks and then, slowly unlocks her cage's door and opens it.

As soon as the door is open, Alma dashes out and gives him a big scratch mark on his cheek. She screeches and flies up to the top of the bigger cage, but Caul is faster. He grabs her wing and throws her to the floor. Her head hits so hard that she can't see anything clearly for a few seconds, but she can still hear his footsteps coming towards her.

'Well well. Didn't we have a deal, Alma?' His voice is above her, and she can feel his hand stroking her head. 'I thought polite persons do not hurt their sibling. Well, I know I'm not quite polite, but...you are, aren't you?'

She hates every bit of him. He scoops her up gently like he doesn't want to hurt her more than this. She wriggles but he holds her so firmly.

'Tsk tsk tsk tsk,' he places her on her feet. 'Calm down, my dear, calm down.'

She looks at him with hatred and that hurts her for she has never wanted to hate him.

'Now,' he begins, 'I want to see my little sister so much. Could you please transform back so that we can talk?'

 _You wish._ Alma hisses in her mind. Although some tiny part of her heart still cares for him, she will not make this easy. She will not surrender to him as long as her children are still in danger. No matter what, her children are her first priority.

He looks at her calmly, doesn't say anything nor rush her to do as he said. That ghastly smile still lingers on his lips. He waits. For some reasons, he just waits. Alma doesn't know why but seeing him so calm disturbs her.

'Oh no no no.' He grabs her wing again, the hurt one, when she flaps it. 'Don't even think about it. We both know you can't beat me, am I right?'

Yes, he is and she hates accepting that. He's faster, stronger, and also, _cruel_. She won't stand a chance no matter how hard she tries. So she just stands there. At least, she won't bow to him.

A minute or two has passed and Caul begins to shift. She knows he doesn't enjoy this at all and he's trying his best to stay as calm as he can. But he's going to run out of his patience very soon and by then, he will try his best to bend her to his will.

'Fine, then.' He breathes out. 'It seems like you are not interested in seeing...your beloved children again, aren't you?'

Alma's heart twists when she heard that. _He had them?_ She doesn't know whether what he said is true or it's just another lie he comes up with. She looks into his white eyes, and no matter they are green like before or white like this, she has never been able to read them. He's such a perfect dagger for her misery and death. The only one who knows how to break her until she shatters into pieces.

'You want to know whether what I said is true or not, right? So why don't we have a little chit-chat? As brother and sister.'

She still remains silent. Half of her doesn't believe him, but another half knows that it is possible. He knows her children are her heart, her world, her everything, so if he wants to hurt her, the best way is to hurt them. But is it really possible?

'Well, my dear, I think I've waited for too long. Perhaps, you need some...evidence that I didn't lie to you, I guess. Ummm, let me think...which one of them could be the best evidence to prove this?'

He pretends to think. His brows are knot as if this is the most difficult question in his life. Alma doesn't take her eyes of him. She is eager to know what he's about to say.

'Ah!' He gasps. 'I see. Maybe,...the little ones will do. The youngest girl and the twins.'

Alma freezes.

'The blond girl who wears a very fluffy dress and has pink ribbons on her head and those two freaks who wear funny masks.'

'Don't you dare touch them!'

Caul widens his smile when he sees his sister again in her human form. Her pretty face is so close to him that he can smell her perfume. He _misses_ her scent so much.

'My, I must say you've never changed. Look at you. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Even prettier than our beloved mother.'

'You have no right to speak of her.' Alma snaps coldly. Her mother's last scream rings in her ears.

'Why not?' Caul asks innocently. 'After all these years, you still blame me for what you've done?'

All of a sudden, Alma can't breathe. Tears sting her eyes but she will not let even a drop of them loose in front of him. Especially, not when he's dying to see her broken.

'Come on, dear Alma, let the past be the past. I forgive you. I'm sure Myron will as well. Alas, he's busy with some...machines now.' He tilts his head a bit, his eyes are what most opposite to sincerity.

'I want to meet them.' She states. 'My children. Now!'

Caul chortles and then, laughs.

'Oh Alma, you really have no idea how to...play a game, right?' He rubs his hands, pursing his lip like he's about to announce something interesting. 'You have to know where you are in the game, Alma. And as I know, the loser cannot command the winner, my dear. You must have hit your head so hard that you are blind to see which position you are and which position I am now.'

Alma tries to swallow the lump in her throat. He is right. She has nothing close to the word 'winner' now. Her head is bleeding for all she knows, one of her arms is twisted, and more importantly, her children are in his hand.

'Please.' It sounds so far like it doesn't come out of her mouth. But the pictures of her children flash up in her head and drive her to say it again, the bitterest word she has to say for her children's sake,

'Please, Jack.'

* * *

Poor Miss P, it hurts me so bad that I have to hurt her. But yeah, I have to do that. Please say something.


	4. Chapter 4

Author Note: Hi everyone! I'm back.

I'm in the midst of my final exams but I just can't stop myself from writing, so here you are, the next chapter.

Thank you, thank you, and thank you for every review. I'm so flattered by all of your kind words and I'm so thankful, my dear readers.

And special thanks for one of the guest who has read all of my stories. I love Miss P, too, that's why I write about her.

Thank you for those suggestions as well. I cannot tell you much so, just hang in there and you're going to see how evil I can be! That's all I can say.

Again, I love this chapter so much and I just want to know what you think about it. Leave some reviews, will you? I die to read all of them.

Just enjoy, then!

* * *

Chapter IV

'Please, Jack.'

Caul chuckles crazily like a broken doll. He loves that, she can tell. He loves to have her beg, to have her plead. And Alma is ready to do anything to satisfy him. She doesn't care that she will lose all of her grace and dignity. As long as it can buy her children their safety, she will not hesitate to do so.

He tries to stop laughing and turns to focus on his little sister again. Then, he walks to the the door and opens a cage.

'Mister Bentham!' Barron exclaims, seeing his leader giving their captive a chance to flee.

'Don't worry, Mister Barron. I assure you that our little bird will not try to leave us anytime soon.' His voice sounds so smooth like he's singing some beautiful songs. 'For if she does that, I will chop her children into pieces and gives them to dogs, or maybe,...sharks.'

Alma glares at him. She clenches her fists. It hurts when her own nails sinking deep into her own palms but she needs to hurt herself. She needs to remind herself that if she doesn't think carefully before doing something like attacking him, she might end up getting hurt more than she is and her children might have met the same fate as well.

'Ummm, but I must suggest you tie her up. It will be so...fun, when she can't use her hands to comfort them.'

'As your wish, sir.' Barron brings a rope out. His face can tell how eager he longs to do this. He steps inside the cage, but when Alma reaches her hands out, he shakes his head.

'Behind you back, milady.' He chirps and pulls her hands behind her back. His smile widens when he hears she cries out in pain for he has touched her injured arm.

Alma tries not to give a sound again when she's being tied. Every knot the wight makes is so tight that the rope presses deep into her flesh, cutting it, perhaps. But she remains silent for this is the price she has to pay to meet her children. Besides, what goes around, comes around. She hurt him on the boat, now it's his turn.

'Done, sir.' Barron announces when Alma feels like she has lost her hands already. They are numb and cold for blood cannot go there. She bets they must be quite pale now.

She still remains at the same spot, waiting for her brother to say something, to allow her to move. She doesn't want to upset him more than this. He is, yes, her brother, but she has never been able to predict what he will do, and for bird's sake, she always hates unpredictable things.

'Well,' he waves his hand like a good gentleman to show her the way, 'lady first.'

And when she walks, he follows, whistling like they are going out for a very pleasant walk.

* * *

It's not pleasant at all. First, because they are heading towards somewhere deep down beneath the building. The air around Alma is so cold and the wall is quite damp. It's so dark here that Alma can't believe she can go this far without tripping herself up. It will hurt so bad since her head will definitely be the first part that smashes the floor.

Secondly, and the most important reason is _does he really keep her children down here?_ This is no place for a child, even that child is Enoch. Alma prays in her heart that he has not brought her Claire here for the little girl is extremely afraid of darkness. Actually, she prays that what he said will turn out to be just a lie, that he will laugh at her foolishness at the end of the stairs, mocking her and telling her he's just lying.

But he doesn't do that when they arrive at what looks like the door to the dungeon. There's another wight there whom Alma has never known before. He's just a watchdog, one of her brother little minions who is, perhaps, oblivious to Caul.

'They have just stopped crying, sir.'

That kills Alma. Her hope shatters down when it is clear to her eyes and ears that they are here, her sweet beautiful children are kept here in this foul place. Hot tears well up in her eyes. Tears of anxiety. Tears of fear. Tears of anger. It becomes harder and harder for her to hold them back. _No! You need to be strong, Alma! You need to be strong._

'I'm sure you will have to endure that again after she left.' Caul nods towards his sister. 'Are you ready, my dear? I understand this is quite emotional, so if you need more-'

'I'm ready.' Alma cuts in. She knows he sees tears in her eyes and she can sense that he is quite unsatisfied for he doesn't see a drop of them on her cheek.

He clicks his tongue. He loves doing that since Alma can remember. She used to be afraid of it when she was just a little girl. It's the sign that something bad is about to happen to her.

'Alma, Alma.' Caul sang and did that thing with his tongue. 'Where are you?'

She bit her lips so hard, trying not to give a shriek. Her parents were out and there were only three of them and some maids on that day.

'Come out.' Jack chanted. 'Come and play, my sweet little bird.'

She was trembling from head to toe. In the darkness where her parents' closet provided her, she was so scared that she would be found. He always found her. Always.

'Alma?' His voice became lower and she knew he had run out of his patience. She hugged herself tighter, even held her breath so that he couldn't hear her. Then, she heard another person's footsteps, her other brother.

'Oh, Myron, did you happen to see our sister?'

She didn't hear what Myron said, but when she thought they were gone, the closet's doors open.

'Peekaboo!'

'Reminiscing about our old days?'

His cold voice brings her back. She looks away, doesn't want him to read her. But he holds her chin with his cold hand and forces her to look at him again.

'You cannot run away from me, sweetheart.' Then he leans forward until his lips almost touch her cheek. 'We both know that.'

And then, he kisses her. A very cold, and disgusting kiss on her cheek. She shrinks back but he forces her to stay still. She can hear his breath and feel it on her neck. Fear swallows her heart and freezes it until it stops pumping.

'I miss you so much, Alma.' He whispers in her ears. 'You have no idea how desperately I want to see you again.'

Alma thanks every bird when he leans back. She keeps reminding herself that now, she is an ymbryne, not a little girl anymore. She cannot show him her weakness. She cannot show him her fear. She is the protector of her twelve pure souls. It doesn't matter how many times she has failed them. That duty will not end until her eyes close for good.

'What are you waiting for?' Caul asks the doorwight. 'I yearn for a glimpse of my lovely niece and nephews's reunion with their mother. And I'm sure they must be really happy to see me again.'

He smirks, ignoring Alma's death glare.

'But sir, those freaks have just petrified Edward. We've just moved his statue out a minute before you come.'

Alma turns to Caul. She fears to her heart that he will be angry with the twins. But he does what is quite unexpected, even to the other wights. He laughs wildly.

'Awe,' he wipes a drop of tear from his eyes, 'my nephews are so naughty, aren't they? You've raised them well, Alma, I give you that.'

She doesn't care what he says. All she wants is getting into that room, seeing her children again, telling them everything will be-. _It can't be, can it? It can't be alright. Is this the ending of everything? Oh, please bird, let it be her ending but not theirs. Not theirs._

'So, I'm afraid you have to call them first before we can come in, sister. I'm sure you would make such a masterpiece, but I need you alive. Besides, it's quite cruel, isn't it? To be killed by those whom you have raised up by your own hands.'

Alma still remains silent.

'Go on.'

She opens her mouth. There are times when she can say that word effortlessly, but now, it's the hardest word to say. At that moment, Alma has just realized how much she misses saying it again.

'Children.' Her voice cracks. It's hoarse.

'...Children?'

And she hears it, the squawking, her twins. It gets louder and louder and then, a cry. A small cry from her little girl.

'Miss Peregrine! I'm scared!'

They're wailing now. Calling her name repeatedly and wailing. It breaks Alma. It breaks her whole heart. It breaks her whole soul. It stabs her lungs until she can't breathe.

'Please, open the door.' She begs. Her voice trembles like a shattered glass, ready to break anytime soon. 'Please, just open the door.'

Caul gives his watchdog a nod and the wight grabs a rusty knob.

* * *

What do you think? Please say something. I know I shouldn't leave it like that, I'm sorry. But pleaseee, don't hate me for that.


	5. Chapter 5

Author note: Hello my dear readers. So sorry that I've gone for so long but I've just finished my exams and everything so, I'M FREE NOW!

Yeah and also sorry for the cliffhanger :-) I know I have hurt a lot of you but just hang in there. I do believe that what is about to come is worth waiting.

As always, thank you for every review. They are all fantastic! And pleaseee, I die to read more of them. They mean so much to me. Feel free to say anything you like.

Okay, I'm gonna let you go now and just enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter V

Emma's feet are burning. Of course, her shoes are quite comfortable but after all, they are made of lead and she has lost almost all of her energy. Every step becomes harder and harder. But she keeps moving, doesn't say a thing. She lets them hurt her so that she can stop thinking about any possibilities that could happen to her friends and her foster mother. Her imagination goes wild and becomes much scarier every minute she has wasted here, in this dark wood, struggling to reach that _damn_ tower.

 _What would those filthy wights do to them?_ She has so many unpleasant ideas that she can come up with in just a few hours. _What if they put Claire in the dark cell? What if they hurt the twins for they had petrified other wights? What if Horace went wild and lost his mind? What if Fiona, Bronwyn, and Hugh were used in some lunatic experiments? What if Enoch was killed because he kept annoying them? And what if, what if they tortured Miss P?_ There are a lot of what-ifs in her head and that makes her feel dizzy like she's about to get sick.

'Emma, are you alright?' Olive asks her friend.

'Yes, Emma, you seems bad.' Millard places his hand on her shoulder.

'Maybe,' Jake tries to suggest, 'we should get some rest here.'

'No way!'

He knows she's going to disagree. Although Jake has just met Emma and her friends, he can see how strong their bonds are. They are more than family for they have lived together for almost a century already. He has just met his Grandpa like what, 16 years or something but he loves him so much. And these children, his new friends, their feeling towards each other must be a hundred times stronger than his. It must be really hard or even impossible for them to imagine the day without their friends, or the day without their ymbryne. They live for each other and that's what they do.

'Emma, it's no use torturing yourself. We all need some rest so that we can...do whatever we have to do there.' Millard still insists.

'And I promise we will wake up even before sunrise. And we will save them. We will save everyone of them.' Jake says, and he feels even worse for saying it.

'Olive is tired as well.' Millard nods towards the fire girl whose fire wavers and then, disappears. She tries to conjure it up again on her hand, but it doesn't come back.

'I'm sorry.' Olive says.

Emma sighs and walks to the nearest tree.

'Fine. Rest, then.' She sits there on the cold ground and ties herself to a tree. The girl takes her shoes off, trying not to flinch when she touches her swollen feet.

Olive and Millard come to sit near her. The boy leans against her shoulder and falls asleep. He's tired, Emma knows. She feels guilty for forcing them all to walk this far, but she just can't help since the rest of them are there, being captured. She tries to relax although it's impossible. Surprisingly, when she closes her eyes, she has just realized how weary she is. And then, in just a few seconds, she falls into the endless darkness.

* * *

It's not that endless and not that dark, actually. In fact, when Emma opens her eyes, she's floating, perhaps, more than 10 meters above the ground. It is freezing up here and she is wearing a very thin dress, fluttering like she is a flag or something. The only reason why she doesn't float up higher is a very thick rope around her ankle. It was tied so tightly that her little foot has gone numb.

'Smile, gal! Smile!'

She looks down at the ground where a nasty old man is yelling at her. He is Mister Gray, the man who bought her from her parents.

'Smile or nothing to eat tonight!'

He's pointing at her, but then, turns to give a well-to-do couple a bow, selling them tickets, welcoming them into the circus tent. He turns to see her again, his eyes are furious.

'Smile!'

Emma forces herself to smile. It must be very ugly since she's about to cry. She hates it here. She hates that every eye down there looking at her, laughing at her like she's a Chimpanzee in a zoo. She holds herself tight. A gulp of harsh wind cut her cheeks. She can taste blood on her lips. She tries to think about something good, but no matter how hard she tries, nothing comes up. All she can remember is her father hitting her with his belt, her mother slapping her and calling her a witch before running away. She doesn't even really know what the witch is. How can she become something or someone she doesn't know? Is this her fault when she cannot stand on the ground normally like others?

Emma's visionary becomes blurry until all she can see is her own tears. If she cries here, Mister Gray will surely puts her in a cage in his cellar and starve her for days. She can't cry now. She just can't.

But a single drop of tears falls down and then, she can't hold them back any longer. She hears the old man growls down there and rapidly pulls her down. She is about to be hit, she knows, not publicly, of course, but down there, in the dark room.

At that moment, when Emma is only a few meters above the ground, she sees a very strange lady looking at her. The lady's hair is bluish raven and her face is quite pale. Her eyes are piercing green and they are very sharp like a hawk's eyes that Emma used to see while traveling with the circus. She wears black coat, totally different from other ladies around her who wear colorful fluffy dresses.

'You're in a very big trouble, gal! Big trouble!' Mister Gray pulls Emma's to the ground and drags her to the tent, yanking the rope.

'Please!' Emma tries to beg. Her foot is bleeding for the rope has cut her flesh.

'Come here, gal!' Mister Gray shouts and pinches her. When he jerks her again, Emma slips and falls into a puddle of mud. He swears and grips her arm tightly, pulling her up.

'Get up!'

'Would you please stop it?'

There is a brief moment of silence before Emma turns to see whose voice it is. She gasps when she sees the strange lady again, standing in front of Mister Gray, her face looks stern.

Mister Gray changes his face in just a second, giving the lady such a broad smile that Emma can see his gum.

'Excuse me, milady, how many tickets do you want to buy, may I ask?'

'I didn't come here for tickets, I'm afraid.' The lady answers very clearly.

Mister Gray's smile disappears at once. His voice turns cold, but not as cold as hers.

'Then, what do you want with me?'

The lady's eyes move to Emma.

'The girl.'

Mister Gray seems stunned for a second and then, he guffaws.

'She's not for sale, Miss,' He bares his teeth like an angry dog and pulls Emma closer.

'Yes,' the lady continues, her eyes show no fear, 'I agree since she is not an object nor a pet. Anyway, as I have already thought this through, money seems to be the only way I can free her from you without any...unnecessary violence, Mister.'

Mister Gray bursts into laughter again. Emma knows he doesn't believe what he has just heard. As beautiful as she is, the lady is just an ordinary woman, small, slim, and, probably, not strong enough to _handle_ Mister Gray alone.

'Miss, I suggest you should get the h-'

The lady brings out a bag and opens it. Emma doesn't see what is inside, but it must be something so valuable that can shut Mister Gray's mouth in just a second. His eyes flash greed and Emma can feel his grip on her arm getting looser.

'Do we have a deal?' The lady raises her eyebrow, waiting calmly.

Mister Gray looks at her, and as if he has just realized his face looks so dumb, he clears his throat and says,

'I'm...sure she will make more than..'

The lady brings another bag out even before he finishes his sentence, and that's the end of this unpleasant conversation.

'Deal.' Mister Gray quickly grabs both bags with both hands and runs away.

'Aaah!' Emma screams when she floats up quickly. She's certain that she will be gone for good since Mister Gray is gone and even though he is here, he definitely won't care to bring her down. The lady must be too shocked to catch her, a girl who can float like a ballon, but Emma is wrong. The lady catches her dress in time. She gently pulls Emma down and holds the girl in her arms, making sure she won't float up again.

'Are you alright, my dear?' The lady asks.

Emma is stunned for a few seconds before answering,

'Yes, Madame.'

The lady chuckles softly while bringing out her white handkerchief to wipe mud from Emma's face. At that moment, Emma knows that no matter what happens, she will never forget this kind face. She will never forget this warm hug in her coldest day. She will never forget this lady. Her savior.

'Thank you, Madame.' Emma says from her whole heart.

'Oh, please, don't call me Madame.' The lady says and reaches her hand out with the warmest smile that Emma has ever received 'Call me Miss Peregrine. I'm delighted to meet you.'

* * *

 _It's just a dream._

 _No. It isn't just a dream._

This is what happened on that day, the day she found her, the day she met Miss Peregrine. The memory is still fresh like everything has just happened yesterday.

Emma doesn't open her eyes. This dream is too sweet that she doesn't want to wake up to face her nightmare. Perhaps, the array of horrible things that she and her friends have faced with might be just a dream too. And when she opens her eyes, she will be in her bedroom, in the house on Cairnholm. It's gonna be the very beautiful morning of September the third and when she goes downstairs, her beloved _mother_ will be there, in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. They will gather around the table. Miss Peregrine will tell Millard to put some clothes on. Hugh's bee will fly around the room. Everything will be the same.

Trees are the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. The floating girl is quite sure that no matter how hard Fiona tries, she cannot conjure the whole wood like this up in their house. The sun hasn't risen yet and the weather is still cold. But everyone is up already. Jake and Millard are discussing something serious while Olive stands over them, providing them some light.

Emma rubs her eyes and heaves a sigh. When she moves, they all turn to see her.

'Better?' Millard asks.

Emma just shakes her head. Seeing Miss P there in her dream hurts her more than she can explain. It's like her headmistress is so close, yet so far as well.

'I think you shouldn't walk, Emma.' Jake tells her, and before she can say anything, he continues, 'it's faster that way and it doesn't hurt.'

'Your feet are very red and swollen.' Olive explains. 'It's no use hurting yourself, Emma.'

Emma has no energy left to say anything. She just wants to be silent for a while, letting her dream heal her heart a bit. So the girl just nods.

'Okay,' Jake walks towards the girl to help her handle the rope. He ties one side of it around her waist and another around his shoulder. Millard grabs Emma's shoes and joins his friends. Olive nods as a sign that she's ready.

'So,' Jake wants to say something like when the general in the movie said to his army before the battle, but he can't find the right word when their hope is so forlorn.

'Let's go then.'

That's all he can say.

* * *

So sorry that it's not the continuation of the previous chap but I promise you the next chap will be what you're waiting for. Please, say something. You can even curse for what I've done cuz I know I deserve it :-) I'll try to finish the next chap as soon as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

Author Note: Hi, my dear readers,

As always, thank you for every review and supports. I can't help smiling every time I read them.

I'm sorry to keep you wait for so long but now, this is what happens next after the cliffhanger I've left you. Hurray! So sorry for that and...sorry in advance. Lol. You'll know why after you've finished this.

So now just enjoy!

* * *

Chapter VI

'Please, open the door.'

Alma begs. At that moment, she is ready to do anything to be there with her children. She turns to see the doorwight, her eyes pleading, her lips trembling uncontrollably.

'Please, just open the door.'

Caul gives his watchdog a nod and the wight grabs a rusty knob. When he opens it, Alma quickly steps inside and looks around. She is the Bird, yes, but this room is so dark that even with her sharp eyes, she cannot see much. But that doesn't matter since she can hear their voice. She follows the voice, walking as fast as she can with her hands tied behind her back.

'Miss P!'

It's her Claire, her Little Claire in this dark place. Since the little girl was just a toddler, Claire always cries when her bedroom is too dark, so Alma has to turn on a lamp or leave the door open every night. But this, Alma can't even see her own hands. She can't imagine how terrified her little girl would be.

'Claire!' Miss Peregrine kneels down on the cold ground. She can't see her girl and the twins but she knows they are there, in front of her, crying in fear.

'Miss P!'

The moment her children's cold hands touch her cheeks, Alma can't hold her tears any longer. Her whole body shivers as if she has just sunk into an ice lake. The first drop of tears breaks free, and then, the rest follows. Her heart twists and for a very brief moment, Alma wishes to be killed for she cannot endure this pain anymore. Her little children's hands are so cold but she can't even hold their hands and give them some warmth. She doesn't deserve to be the ymbryne of these beautiful lives. She doesn't deserve their love. The only thing she deserves is their hatred for she has failed them again and again.

'I'm sorry, my dear. I'm sorry.' Her voice is unnaturally high since the lump in her throat blocks the air. The twins and Claire are struggling to get to her but they cannot because of the iron bars. They pull her dress, crying panically, and calling her name, but she can't do anything to soothe them.

'I'm sorry.' That's all Alma can say. Her heart has been stabbed repeatedly until she has no idea how she can still breathe. And when she thinks this is the worst moment in her life, what is worse comes when Caul and his wight appear behind her with a lantern.

'Tsk tsk tsk, such a pleasure to watch this beautiful reunion. Hope you like it, my dear Alma.' Caul smiles and crouches down beside his sister, delighted to see her tears coursing down her cheeks.

But Alma doesn't care nor move away for what she is looking at has petrified her whole body until she cannot even blink. A big handprint bruise wraps around her Claire's tiny arm and the twins's mask is stained with crimson drops. They cry louder when they see her, begging her to help them. Their voice crushes her heart and her whole soul.

'Oh,' the doorwight says and raises the lantern up, 'and that boy. He's screaming like a gal.'

The light shines upon a boy in a dusty suit, curling like a baby at one corner of the prison. His blond hair is covered in blood from a big wound on his head.

'Horace,' Alma calls her boy. 'Horace!'

He doesn't look up and she knows right away he is getting lost in the world of his own nightmares, can't find his way out of it.

'Horace, it's just a dream. I'm here, Horace. Come back to me!'

He doesn't respond and all she can do is looking from afar, calling his name in despair.

'Let me in!' She turns to her brother. The only way she can get to her boy is him. When she sees his smirk, Alma wants to scream and shake Caul violently, asking him how he can do this to these innocent souls. But she has to calm herself down. Her children's life is in his hand and if he decides to clench his fist, she will lose the most important things in her life forever.

'Please, Jack, he needs me.'

Caul licks his lips, looking at his sister. He takes a very deep breath while tapping his foot.

'Well,' he sighs and gives Alma a gentle smile before telling his minion, 'open the door then.'

'What?' The doorwight asks.

'Open the door,' Caul repeats emotionlessly, still smiling at his sister.

Alma looks into Caul's eyes, doesn't believe her own ears. Yes, she dies to be in there with her children, but he doesn't care, does he? Doesn't he want to torture her? Why listen to her now? So many questions come up in her mind, but Alma throws them all away when she hears the doorwight unlock the prison door. She doesn't care what Caul has planned to do to her. If she has a chance, she will definitely grab it no matter how high its price is. But when the door is open, it becomes clear to Alma that the price she waits to pay is so high that she wishes she hadn't grabbed the chance.

'Miss P!' Claire and the twins run to the door, but before they reach it, Caul grips Alma's arm and gives his wight an order,

'Don't let them out.'

The doorwight stands at the doorway, pushing the children back. The little ones try to run past him but they cannot. They cry their ymbryne's name until their voice is gone and suddenly, Horace screams, crawling back to the corner and cups his ears, shaking his head.

'Let go of me!' Alma struggles to get to her children. She's dying and she knows it feeds her brother fantasy since it's much more enjoyable for him to see her heart bleed.

The Bird reaches her hand out to them. Claire and the twins are at the threshold, just a few inches from her. Almost within her reach. But Caul drags her back, grinning pleasantly as if he's watching something so funny.

'Miss P!' Little Claire turns around and bites the doorwight with her back mouth. The wight yelps and trips over his own feet, blood dripping from Claire's bite mark. While he tries to stand up, the twins and Claire quickly run past him to their ymbryne and hold her legs tightly.

'Don't hurt Miss P!' Claire cries. 'Don't take Miss P from us, please! I'll be good.'

The girl screeches when the doorwight comes to grab the back of her dress and throws her back into the prison, followed by the twins. Alma tries to get out of Caul's grip but it's no use. Caul's talons are so strong no matter what form he takes, a bird or a man.

'At least, leave them some light!' She pleads when she is certain Caul isn't gonna let her go. 'Please, leave them some light, Jack.'

'Lock the door and don't forget your lantern.' Caul tells the wight, 'Is that what you want, Alma?'

'No, Jack. Please!'

But he doesn't listen. Caul just laughs and drags her out of here.

'Come here, my little bird. Come with me.'

'Let go of me!' Alma doesn't give up although there's no hope left since the doorwight has locked the prison already. 'Let go of me!'

'I said COME WITH ME!'

And that's the last thing Alma Lefay Peregrine can remember before her head hit the wall and everything becomes dark.

* * *

The floor is so cold that her cheeks go numb. When she opens her eyes, Alma has to blink a few times since her blood has blurred her vision. Her head is throbbing and her hands are still tied. She is struggling to get up when she hears his voice not quite far behind her.

'Right on time.' Caul claps his hands. 'You have no idea how worried I am. I will never forgive myself if you die this peacefully, my Alma.'

The Bird turns to see him. Her death glare never works when it comes to Caul. He just grins and clicks his tongue as if nothing serious happened.

'Where are the rest of my children?' Alma hisses.

Caul doesn't answer. He whistles and walks around the large bird cage.

'What did you do to them?' Alma keeps asking.

No response.

'This is not their battle, Jack. If you hate me, do whatever you want to me but let them go!'

Caul just changes the tune and then, begins to sing,

'Baby lies so fast asleep

That we cannot wake her;

Will the angels clad in white

Fly from heaven to take her?

Baby lies so fast asleep

That no pain can grieve her;

Put a snowdrop in her hand,

Kiss her once and leave her.'

He laughs and turns around as if he's dancing. When his eyes meet Alma's, he clicks his tongue and gives her his smile.

'Rossetti gave you such a great advice, don't you think? Although _the line that no pain can grieve her_ isn't quite true, judging from what I've heard and seen. However, the line that says _kiss her once and leave her_ does suit you, Alma. I might allow you to kiss them once before leaving them if you behave.'

'Just let them go, Jack. And I'll do everything you want.' It's hard to control her voice when the pictures of her children keep flashing in her mind.

'Speaking of behaving, I want you to meet someone. Someone whom you should behave when he arrives since he has been my best friend for more than a century now.'

 _It can't be._ Fear has swallowed Alma's heart again. _It can't be him, right?_

'He is perfect, Alma.' Her mother's voice rang in her head.

'For me or for you and father?' Alma Lefay Bentham asked while pacing around her bedroom.

'For all of us.' Her mother replied. 'Oh for Christ's sake, it's just drinking tea. It's not like I force you to marry him today!'

'But soon, you will, won't you? Soon father and you will force me to marry him. How many times have I told you I don't want to get married?'

'And you want what? Becoming a silly caretaker of those freaks?'

'I am a _freak_ as well, I'm afraid, mother, and an ymbryne is not a _silly caretaker._ '

'Alma, Henry is your brother's best friend and also, your _fianc_ _é._ At least, give him a chance.'

'I didn't ask to be his fiancée, mother.'

Her mother sighed and pointed to a very beautiful dress on her four-poster bed.

'Will you please do that for me? Wear that dress and go drink tea with him for once?'

Alma closes her eyes, trying to stop thinking about her past. Long time ago, she locked it in a box and hid that box somewhere very deep in her thought that it couldn't be found so easily. But now, meeting her _brother_ again brings that box back and her past gradually comes out to haunt her. Her mother's scream becomes clearer and louder and soon, she's so afraid that the worst part of it will be released. When that time comes, can she still be her children's Miss peregrine? Will she be strong enough to get through it again?

When Alma opens her eyes, Caul is at the door, ready to welcome a new visitor.

'Are you ready to meet him, Alma?' He asks and before Alma answers, he opens it.

* * *

I know, another cliffhanger. :-) Don't hate me please. I'll try to update soon. Please say something! I die to read your review.


	7. Chapter 7

Author Note: Hi, my readers,

I have tried so hard to finish this chapter as fast as I can. Thank you so much for every review and suggestion. I've read them several times and I'm so thankful to all of you.

For Taylah, I'm terribly sorry that I didn't answer your question but I really had no idea how to do so but updating a new chapter as soon as possible and answer you in the author note. I'm not gonna stop writing this I assure you. But it may take some time to finish each chapter.

Since many of you want to see Jake play a very important role, I've tried to adjust the story a bit for you all. Jake is gonna have a bigger part in this. However, it may not be the biggest part since this story is for Miss P, my most favorite character. Anyway, I'll try to make sure that Jake will shine as well. Thank you so much for your interesting suggestion.

I'm so sorry that this story is quite dark, at least darker than my other stories. I just want to try something new, and since Do you still love me? Is quite fluffy, Long time no see is then full of angst and violence. The tone and mood of this story are certainly different from Do you still love me?

Now, an announcement!

Yuna McHill, my friend has offered to beta-read my work before I publish it. So in this chapter, my work is gonna be much better thanks to Yuna. Thank you so much my dear sister. Without your help, there would be so many errors. Love you, my serious business partner!

Okay, now I'll let you go and enjoy this new chap! Hope you like it.

* * *

Chapter VII

Time doesn't change Raymond McGrath at all, of course, since he is a wight.

His grey eyes are gone but his white eyes are still as cold as a damp room where a fireplace isn't lit. She never liked them, his grey eyes. It reminds her of the dim sky when something bad is about to happen. But his white ones are even worse. They look blank as if there is nothing behind them, not even life nor soul.

He's a bit taller than Caul despite their same age and his hair is light blonde unlike Caul's raven hair. Still they have one thing in common, their insanity. Both of them cherish power and authority more than anything. They enjoy bending bendable victims and breaking unbendable ones. Alma has witnessed that since she was young and although many years have passed, she can still smell their bloodthirsty instinct right now when they get near her.

He slowly approaches her, grinning. Alma steps back a bit when his face is just an inch before her cage. Admittedly, she fears his presence but actually, she isn't afraid of him at all. He has never physically hurt her like Caul, at least not yet and somehow, Alma can feel that he isn't as clever as her _brother_ as well, although that still doesn't mean he's dumb.

'Hello, Alma.'

His voice is melodic as always, but it's not beautifully melodic. In fact, it's more like a snake slithering through one's ears.

He laughs when she doesn't answer, turning to Caul and pointing at her.

'She is still so shy, isn't she?'

'I'm afraid so, Raymond.'

'And so pretty as always.' McGrath places his hands on the cage, trying to have a better look. 'Time cannot lay its hand on you, can it? Since you are its master.'

Alma stands still, doesn't make a move. She knows that it's just a matter of time before she ends up being forced to say something, but since now she can remain silent, she just stares at the man she hasn't met for so many years.

'I have to say,' he continues, 'your charges are quite... useful to my experiment.'

There it is. Her silence always brings her something horrible. She clenches her fists, trying to calm herself down. If she begs, she will never know what really happens to them, but if she doesn't, he will reveal more for sure.

'It's not hard to figure out what they can all do but I have to admit that one of them is quite... ordinary.'

He knows she is listening. He walks around her cage, looking at her like a tiger at a deer.

'He doesn't tell us what he can do. He keeps yelling and saying something, well, quite rude to us. I'm sure you won't be happy if you heard those creative ways he came up with to call us.'

 _Enoch! It must be her Enoch!_ Alma looks away to hide what she feels from him. She is so scared for her boy that she wants to kneel down and hug herself, pulling her legs to her chest and crying like a girl. If her little ones and Horace are hurt that much, she cannot imagine how her Enoch is right now. The boy will definitely give his all to fight back, won't bow to the wights no matter what.

'But it's really fun tackling him. Thank you, Caul, that you've sent them to me.'

Caul doesn't answer. His eyes lock on Alma's face, enjoying her attempt to hide her feelings.

'Alas, Mister Barron couldn't _save_ them all, right, Mister Barron?' McGrath turns to the other wight in the room, who is standing silently in one corner.

'Yes, Mister McGrath. I think they couldn't make it out of the house.'

Alma closes her eyes, trying to stop her brain from picturing anything bloody or terrible. It can't be. Her children are strong and clever. They know exactly what will happen at 9:07, if she isn't there to reset the loop. They wouldn't be there, waiting to be bombed, would they? Except, something stops them. Something like a hollow, perhaps. _No! They could make it out. They are your children. You know them, Alma. They could make it._

'I have a bee boy, a green-thumb girl, and a tough little one in my collection. The girl with the back mouth, the twins, and that crazy boy are counted as well, but their power isn't that important to me now. I mean I don't know exactly what the screaming boy in the dungeon can do, but he looks too insane for me so I just put him there, but for the girl and the twins, they are very rare cases, so I want to be sure with my experiment first before using them in it.'

He pauses to wait for any response, but Alma doesn't say a word. She has to bite her tongue so hard to do so. So far, what she has learned is enough to bring her down to her knees. Her little ones and Horace are in the dark dungeon, her Hugh, Fiona and Bronwyn are used in some experiments, her Enoch is being forced to open his mouth and the rest of them are nowhere to be seen. She has never wanted to hurt anybody this much before, but when three men in front of her can still smile while talking about these crimes they've committed, she's ready to even tear them into pieces, if she can.

'I'm terribly sorry that I can't bring you the rest of them.' Barron steps into the light and explains. 'Especially that boy, Abraham's grandson. At first, I thought he would be as _good_ as our _dear_ Portman but it appeared that he wasn't.'

'What did you just say?' It's the first time in a while Caul speaks up. Barron quickly turns to him and answers,

'I'm sorry that I can't bring the rest of the-'

'No, no. About the boy. That boy. He is whose grandson?'

'Abraham, sir, Abraham Portman.'

Alma knows Caul's peculiarity isn't freezing things, but she can feel the room getting colder when he closes his eyes and puts his hands into his pockets. He slowly steps towards Barron, his lips are thin line.

'Could you please tell me again he is whose grandson?'

Barron loses his voice. He looks confused.

'Abraham, sir. He is Portman's grandson.'

'And could you please tell me what is Mister Portman's peculiarity?'

'Umm...he could see...Hollows, sir.'

Caul nods.

'Yes, he could see our poor friends. But it's not just that, isn't it? If I'm not wrong, he can do... more than that.'

Barron is stunned.

'Yes, Mister Barron, he could control our friends and isn't that, let just say, the rarest peculiarity we can find in our peculiardom?'

'But...but...,' the inferior wight stutters, 'his grandson might not share the same peculiarity, right, sir? He looks so... ordinary.'

'I've never known how stupid you are until now, Mister Barron.' McGrath cuts in, staring at the wight he mentioned. 'No ordinary man can enter a loop.'

Barron is cornered. Alma knows that now he has no idea what he should do, but she doesn't expect him to turn to her in the end.

'Ask her, sir.' Barron points to her. 'He cannot see the Hollows like his grandfather, right?'

It's her chance. If Alma's answer is _yes, he is like his grandpa,_ she's quite certain that Barron will be in a very big trouble. But it's not just that. If the answer is yes, Jake will be in a greater danger as well. He will be targeted for these wights' crazy experiment. Since she believes that the rest of her children are still alive and she wants them to be as safe as possible, the only answer she should give them is quite obvious, isn't it?

'No,' she says and the other wights turn to her, 'he can't see the Hollows.'

'See?' Barron tries to smile. 'I told you.'

Caul doesn't seem to relax. He tilts his head a bit, raising his brow, while looking into Alma's eyes. The Bird thanks every bird that his peculiarity isn't reading other people's minds, otherwise, she would stand no chance.

'And what is his peculiarity then, my dear sister?' Caul asks. 'And don't waste my precious time, sis, if you don't want to face an unpleasant consequence.'

It's hard for her to lie to Caul, but she has to try her best. Alma licks her lips and bites her lower lip a bit before answering,

'His peculiarity is telekinesis. He can move things with his mind.'

'That's quite common. He is no use to us then, Caul.' McGrath seems a bit disappointed when he places his hand on his friend's shoulder, but also a bit relieved as well that he doesn't miss the rarest case he could collect.

'My friend,' Caul begins, 'my advice concerning your fiancée, don't underestimate her. She is... more cunning than you think she is.'

Alma freezes but she tries to maintain her stern face. _Calm down, Alma. Just calm down._

Caul walks to the cage and smiles a bit before licking his lips and biting his lower lip slowly in front of his sister.

'You always do these when you're lying, my little Alma, licking your lips before biting them.' Then his voice changes. 'How did you get hurt, my girl?... I just tripped over my feet, father... How did you get cut, my dear?... I wasn't careful enough, mother.'

Yes, she should have told her parents the truth. If she had told her parents what happened, Caul might not have been like this. He might have been…better. If only she had told them. _Caul pushed me, father. He pushed me and stepped on my arm so that I can't fly...He did that, mother. He scratched me with his very big talons._

But she didn't. She used to tell her parents what Caul had done to her once and her father had hit him with a leather belt until he confessed what he had done to his sister. She can still remember that night when she has heard her brother wailing and when she peeked into the room, Caul was on the floor, his shirt stained with blood.

At that time, she had been so afraid of him, but no matter what, she still loved him because he was her brother. That was why she had never told her parents again what he did. She didn't want him to get hurt. She didn't want to see him hurt. And look what he has done to her now- killing her alive as if she is nothing to him.

'Find me the boy, Mister Barron, if you wish to live another day.'

'But he might be dea- Yes, sir, I'll find you the boy.' Barron quickly leaves the room when it's clear to him that he better find his master the boy, rather than insisting that Portman's grandson is gone for good. Alma's eyes follow him until the wight disappears behind the door.

'Mourning your failed lie, my little bird?'

Caul's voice brings Alma back. She looks at him and then at McGrath.

'Well, well, my dear sweetheart, licking your lips and biting then. I have to keep that in mind from now on. Thank you, Caul, for your advice.' McGrath gives Alma a big smile. 'Perhaps, Caul, our beloved boy, the one who is quite... impolite, might know something about this Mister Portman's grandson, don't you think? Maybe, I should try to find out from him where his friend is.'

He looks at Alma to taunt her, smiling like an idiot.

'Oh, and if I can borrow her for a few hours, that would be great, so that I can... _use_ her to investigate him in case he doesn't cooperate.'

Caul just chuckles and brings out a key from his pocket. He gives it to his friend and then turns to his sister in the cage.

'Just make sure that she's still breathing when you return her to me.'

* * *

I know, who the heck is Raymond McGrath, right? He is my own OC. I just want to explore deeper into Miss P's past and add some more bastards in her life, so I come up with him. What do you think, my dear readers? Not only about McGrath, but also, this chapter as well. I'll wait to hear from you.


	8. Chapter 8

Author note: Hi everyone!

I've just finished this chapter yesterday and things are going to be more intense.

For Lily, sorry that I keep you waiting but I did try my best to finish it as fast as I could. Thank you so much that you like my story.

For Alyssa, thank you so much and I'm so glad to hear that. Anyway, we should thank my dear sister, Yuna McHill, for correcting every mistake I came up with. Without her, I'm sure there would have been a lot of them.

Thank you for every review you all gave to me. They mean so much to an amateur like me who has just begun to write. Thank you.

And a special thank for my dearest Yuna McHill again for beta-reading this chapter and making it error-free. I love you, dear. Kisses!

Okay! So just ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter VIII

Little Claire is still crying in the darkness of the dungeon. Back there, on Cairnholm, she has read so many fairy tales with a princess being captured in the dungeon and she was always scared to death when the books told her that the dungeon was so dark and damp. It's the place she has been in her nightmares, so this is like her nightmares having come true.

 _Miss P will wake me up in a few minutes because she hears me crying. She's gonna hold me and sing me her lullaby and everything will be alright. It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare._

But no matter how many times she closes and opens her eyes, she still wakes up to this endless darkness and cruel coldness where Miss P is nowhere to be seen. It does no good, since the more she tries to think of it as a dream, the more it becomes real. Her Miss P has just been slammed into the wall a few hours ago and the last thing Claire saw before that bad man held Miss P up and went out was Miss P's blood, dripping from her raven hair. A long time ago Miss P used to accidentally get herself cut and that memory has been buried deep in Claire's mind since it was the only time she saw her ymbryne fall. Since then Claire hates blood, especially when it is on her Miss P's body.

The twins squawk at their sister. One of them strokes her back to calm her down. It's not easy at all to do so since they are still young as well, but in this moment, they are the oldest ones who can still do _something_ for o-thers, so they know they have to help their brother and sister get through this.

Horace has stopped screaming a while ago, but he refuses to talk to anyone. He rocks back and forth slowly, knocking his head against the wall as if he were a broken rocking doll. When the twins touch his shoulder, he jumps and shakes his head swiftly, his eyes flash fear, so they just leave him like that, for they don't know how to help him.

What the prophetic boy sees is invisible to others. He has to witness the future alone and though it's not always right, it's still scary. Through his blank eyes, no one can see what he sees and what he's facing right now is beyond any nightmares he's ever had.

It's like every time when he enters his prophetic dream. Everything is white first and when the light is gone, he sees what he's probably going to see in reality. This time it's a white room that reminds him of both a hospital and a laboratory. There are many men and women wearing a white coat and a mask. They all have white eyes. But that doesn't scare Horace as much as what he is looking at right now.

On the beds in front of him, three of his friends lie there, unconscious. Hugh has a very large tube that disappears into his throat and his bees fly panically in and out. Some of them are trapped in a large glass cage near his bed where the tube leads to.

Fiona is next to him. She doesn't have a large tube going out of her mouth like Hugh but there are many wires on her body. One of them connects her fingers with an empty flowerpot.

Bronwyn is next. She is the only one who has been tied to the bed with many ropes on her wrists, ankles, legs, and even her torso. She has many wires on her body like Fiona but none of them leads to a flowerpot. They lead to some machine that shows her heartbeat and other graphs Horace can't read.

Everything flashes white again and when his vision comes back, he is standing in a long corridor.

He looks around for a moment, trying to see what he is meant to see around here but all he sees is nothing. That's when he hears footsteps coming from behind and when he turns around, he sees a man, a man whom he has never met before, but since his eyes are white, Horace knows he is a wight.

'Come, my dear. Your boy is waiting.' The wight says and looks at a woman in his grip. _It's Miss Peregrine!_

The headmistresses head is badly injured. A streak of blood runs across her face and she looks like she's about to collapse in a few minutes.

'Faster, dear.' The wight pulls sharply at Miss Peregrine.

'Ouch!' The Bird's ankle twists, but the wight doesn't allow her to stop. He keeps dragging her, gripping her arm so hard that it could break her bone.

'Now...' he pushes her against the wall near the door, grabs her hair and yanks her head upright. Miss Peregrine lets out a groan of protest. She tries to get away but her hands are tied and her hair is yanked, so there is nothing she can do when he leans forward until his lips brush against the side of her neck, 'my advice to you, dear... behave! Argh!'

The Bird kicks him and when he falls back, she quickly limps away, trying to flee from him. But it's no use for the wight is faster. He grabs her arm and slaps her across her face. When he yanks her hair up again, blood is dripping from her lips.

'Oh...' he frowns, 'I'm so so sorry my sweet Alma. But I've told you already to behave, right?'

He presses his fingers to the corner of the Bird's mouth, forcing her to let out a cry.

'Believe me, sweetheart, when I tell you', he smiles, ' that this is just the beginning.'

Then the wight opens the door near him and when Horace sees what's inside the room, he screams and everything goes dark.

* * *

They are in the town now, mingling with a throng of crowd on a street. Jake is the leader of the group, trying to get near the tower without being caught by any wights or Hollows. His eyes move around, checking whether any people around here have white eyes and whether there is a faceless mons-ter with creepy tentacles. Millard is by his side, naked since ordinary people don't see floating clothes every day and Emma has to wear her shoes now for a similar reason. Olive is behind all of them, making sure no one attacks them from behind. Though she wears her gloves, the girl is ready to set anyone coming near them with a bad intention on fire.

They haven't eaten anything for more than 12 hours but none of them feel hungry when they walk past a bakery or a restaurant. Actually, they all feel sick when they see a big warm loaf of bread or juicy steak. Their friends might not even have water to drink and must be beyond starving at this point. The little ones might be scared to death by now and Miss Peregrine... it's hard to imagine what their ymbryne is going through. Actually, it's not that hard but Jake, Emma, Olive, and Millard prefer to stop their brains from generating any possibilities of what Miss P is facing. It's easier that way to keep walking and it makes their hope live a bit longer. _Their ymbryne is still alive!_ That really helps.

'Hide there! Quick!' Suddenly, Jake speaks up and drags all of them to a small alley. He puts his finger to his mouth and looks out to where he sees what he doesn't want to see the most.

They are there, those monsters along with Mister Barron. The good thing is that they are heading out of the town, towards the dock, but on second thought, that might not be a good thing at all.

'They are coming for us.' Emma murmurs. She doesn't see the Hollows, of course, but Barron isn't invisible.

Jake nods.

'That's our chance. At least, there are less of them in there.' Millard suggests.

'We should be quick then.' Emma tells Jake and when he steps outside, she follows.

When they are hiding before the entrance of the tower, none of them says anything for a while. They die to get inside and save their friends and their ymbryne, but to do so is not easy at all. Yes, Mister Barron and some Hollows have gone out but who knows how many of them left in their rendez- vous? It's still too dangerous.

'I'll go first.' Millard offers. 'I'll try to clear the way for you.'

Emma seems like she's about to protest, but since there is no way left, the girl becomes silent.

'I'll send you our signal when everything is ready.' The invisible boy says and then, he completely disappears.

'What signal?' Jake asks.

The floating girl covers her mouth with her hands and mimics the sound of a bird, not just of any bird, but a peregrine falcon. Their mother.

'That signal.' The floating girl replies and turns to the fire girl. 'Are you okay, Olive?'

Olive doesn't look good. She frowns as if she has been stung by a bee, her hand on her chest. The girl hasn't felt like this for quite some time but she can still remember every detail of it. It's like someone having ripped her internal organs out and put them back in the wrong place repeatedly. At first, when they haven't been in town yet, the feeling wasn't this obvious, but the closer she gets to the tower, the stronger it grows. The fire girl has to crouch down on the floor, clenching her dress tightly to endure the pain that has risen increasingly every minute.

'Olive?' Emma kneels down beside her friend.

But Olive can't say a word. Soon, she knows, the pain is going to be unbearable. She used to experience this before. She knows what it means. The last time it came up was when Enoch got injured trying to save Victor. Somehow she can reach him. Somehow she can feel what he feels.

 _Enoch needs help!_

* * *

Enochhh! Believe me I die to see what happens to him as much as you do. Please say something. I really wanna hear from you all. What do you think, my dear readers?


	9. Chapter 9

Author note: Hello, my dear readers.

I know I've been gone for so long and I'm so sorry for that. There are so many things happen in this month, many changes that I have to deal with, so I don't have time to write. Anyway, now, things begin to settle and since today I'm not busy, I can finish this chapter and publish it for you all, Hurray!

First of all, I think I should warn you first that this chapter is gonna be a bit violent and I have to rate it M, just in case, since I have no idea how violent I can go if I rate it T. There's gonna be a lot of angst here and if you're not a big fan of violence, you might want to skip it.

Now, as always and I think you know what I'm about to say. Thank you for every support, especially for every guests' comment asking about the update and everything.

For Lily, I'm so sorry for the waiting. I hope this chapter can atone for keeping you wait for so long.

For Taylah, lol, you should get an account, dear, so that I can answer you immediately when you comment. Thank you so much and I'm so glad that you love this story. Thank you.

For Nimara, it's okay, dear. English isn't my first language as well and there are still a lot of errors in my work. I really wanna see Caul in the movie version. I always picture him as a snake-like man. I don't know I just feel like that kind of villain is creepier than the tyranny. Thank you for you review.

For other guests as well, thank you for your support. I love you all so much!

Okay now, I think it's time to enjoy what you have waited for. I'll leave you here!

* * *

Chapter IX

'Enoch, wake up! Wake up!'

The very bright laughter of Little Claire lightened his dim bedroom. Even he hadn't opened his eyes yet, Enoch could tell the girl was about to jump on him.

'Ouch!'

See? Sometimes Claire just forgot that she was no longer a tiny tot.

'Wake up, Enoch! It's Christmas!'

Yes, yes, it was Christmas, the happiest day that the little ones were always waiting for despite the absence of snow and the fact that today was September the third.

'CAAAAW!' The twins joined Claire and since Enoch had no wish to be jumped on again, he quickly rose up.

'Okay, okay.'

'Has he woken up yet?'

It was Miss Peregrine and the girls-Emma, Olive, and Fiona. They all were standing at the doorway, looking at him.

'Wake up, Enoch! Everyone is waiting for you, sleepyhead.' Emma chirped.

'Yes! We promise to open the presents together, remember?' Fiona reminded the biggest brother.

'How long do we have to wait?!' Horace just walked in. And if a so-calm person like Horace couldn't wait, Enoch knew he better hurry.

'Ugh! Fine. But please, I do need a bit privacy to change.' He rolled his eyes and climbed out of his bed.

'I don't think you have to.' Hugh laughed, looking outside, at the corridor.

'The presents are here, everyone!' Millard entered the room with many packages in his arms, at least as many as he could carry. Bronwyn managed to handle the rest. Boxes of gifts seemed like a pile of feathers when they were carried by the strong girl. She followed Millard into the room, almost hitting Horace since she couldn't see the way. Thanks to Miss Peregrine, Bronwyn stopped in time.

'Hurray!' Everyone jumped and sat down on the floor, waiting for Miss Peregrine to give them their Christmas gift.

'Alright,' Miss P smiled beautifully as always. Enoch didn't know whether she knew how much he loved to see her smile. It was a smile that gave him strength to carry on, to endure whatever misery he had faced, and he wished to see it everyday, every hour, every minute, 'this is for you, Claire. Merry Christmas, my dear.'

Claire took a very pink box from Miss Peregrine's hands and held it close.

'These are for you two, sweeties.'

The twins cooed in joy, thanking Miss P for their gift.

'Let's see...this is for you, and you, and you.'

Horace, Hugh, and Millard gave Miss P a very big smile.

'And my girls, Fiona, this is for you. Emma, here. Olive. And of course, Bronwyn.'

They all giggled and Bronwyn jumped around the room in excitement.

'And the last one.' Miss Peregrine grinned. In her hands was a brown box with velvet ribbon. 'For you, Enoch. Merry Christmas.'

* * *

'Awk!' The teenage boy who can rise the dead groans in pain when he is kicked on his stomach. His dream was so sweet that it temporarily made him forget his pain, but now, that feeling has come back and it is stronger than it was.

He blinks, trying to open his eyes but it is so hard since his face is covered in blood. He can smell it and can even taste it in his mouth, that metallic taste in his sticky saliva. His head is throbbing crazily as well as his whole body. He is quite certain that his ribs must have been broken and his shoulder must have been dislocated since he can't move his left arm.

He screams...again when that _bastard_ kicks him although he has no intention to show his weakness. The pain is so unbearable that he cannot control himself. All he can hear now is that wight's laughter, the one who has tortured him for many hours to make him open his mouth. But he won't. He knows he might die, but he won't. If he's going to die, he wants to die bravely, fighting till his last breath like Abe, not begging for his life like a coward. He won't yield. He won't surrender no matter what.

But what he has just heard makes his blood turn cold, frozen to be precise. It's a scream. Not his. Not that wight's. It's a woman's scream. Enoch tries to open his eyes again and squints to adjust his vision. Through red liquid, he sees a familiar figure, wriggling to get to him, but she can't.

'Don't! Please, I beg you. Don't do this. He's just a boy!'

There is only one person on earth who still sees him as a boy. Enoch knows right away who she is.

'Miss..P.' He mumbles, trying to stand. 'Arrgh!'

He writhes in agony when the wight kicks his ribs. _You can't make it, Enoch. You're too weak._ That is what his rational brain says. _You have to be strong, Enoch. Miss P needs help._ That is what his heart tells him.

'Please, stop it!' Miss Peregrine's voice cracks. She is crying. That wight makes her cry. He erases the beautiful and hopeful smile on her face.

Enoch roars and somehow, manages to rise up, almost running into the wight, but he trips and hit the very hard floor before reaching that monster for he has been chained to a metal pipe. His lips bleed more and he might have just broken his nose.

'That hurts, doesn't it?' The wight laughs and places his foot on the boy's face. 'Tsk, tsk, tsk, look at that pretty face.'

'Don't, please. Don't do this.' Miss Peregrine is still begging. That hurts Enoch for he has never seen the Bird beg.

'Let's see whether he's gonna answer me this time.' The wight crouches down and grabs Enoch's hair.

'What is your peculiarity, son?'

A very little part in Enoch's heart tells him that he better answer this question. But he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to surrender to this man. The man who takes away Miss P's smile. The man who, in fact, isn't a man at all.

'I'm _not_ your _son,_ wight!'

Another hit and he swears he heard his nose bridge break. The very tangible evidence starts oozing from his nose, dropping to the floor which is quite red already. It's hard to believe that the puddle of blood here is all his. How can he lose this much blood and still stay alive? Well, at least he's still breathing.

'Argh!'

The wight yanks his head up again. Enoch can see his merciless white eyes, glittering with such a joy and happiness. The boy tries to look past him to Miss Peregrine but the wight doesn't give him a chance.

'Worry about your ymbryne? Oh, don't worry. I promise I'll take a very good care of her. She is my fiancée, has she ever told you?'

Enoch knows his face right now must be so dumb. He can't believe what he has just heard. This evil monster is what? Miss Peregrine's fiancé?

'We were about to get married when she ran away to those old stupid ladies to become your...nanny. Such a sweet fiancée she is, don't you think?'

'She isn't a _nanny._ ' Enoch hisses. 'She is an _ymbryne._ The best one.'

The wight laughs and Enoch regrets for saying those things for now, he is no longer the one who gets the wight's attention. That _bastard_ turns to Miss P.

'Did you hear that, sweetheart? He said you were the best ymbryne!' He puts his hand under her chin and raises her head. 'But I say you're the worst one, my love. You've got almost half of them killed, haven't you? And soon, what? Another half will die. Is this what every ymbryne does, watching her charges die one by one?'

'Don't you dare touch her! Don't listen to him, Miss. Argh!' The wight kicked him. This time, right at his face.

'Enoch!'

The teenage boy can't say a word. He unintentionally chokes down a mouthful of blood and the taste is beyond disgusting. For a few seconds, he can't even breathe and he thinks this is death but it's not for what he is seeing now is.

The wight gets his dirty hands on Miss Peregrine. He caresses her in a very improper and disrespectful way, his hands moving around her body from her arms to her hip, his lips slithering from her cheek to her ear and to her neck. Enoch curses him and tries to get to Miss P but it's no use. He looks like a dog, chained to its house. He knows Miss P won't stay still like this if it's not because of him. She uses herself to protect him, to make sure that her boy will, at least, have time to breathe.

'Don't! Please! I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything!'

It works. At least, the wight stops doing what he is doing although his hands are still on Miss P, holding her close to him. He rests his chin on her shoulder, a grin on his lips.

'Well?'

Enoch looks at Miss Peregrine. He can see her quite clearly now and suddenly, he wishes he could tear every wight into pieces, stab them until there's no place on their foul body where he could stab, strangle them and watch their life slip away, make them pay for what they has done to this woman, this great ymbryne who doesn't deserve to be here at all. Who on earth can shamelessly hurt this peculiar saint? Who on earth can lay their hands on her without remorse? If you clip an ymbryne's wings, it's not just her who falls but her children as well. Do these wights have a heart?

'Boy, I warn you, if-'

'I can raise the dead.' Enoch blurts out. 'Just temporarily.'

'The dead riser, aren't you? Very interesting. Well, at least that saves your life. If what you said is true, you're quite important to our experiment.' The wight stares at him. His white eyes look into the boy's brown ones, trying to judge whether what he said is true. But Enoch has nothing to hide. He lets the wight stare at him while he looks at his Miss Peregrine.

 _Don't worry, Miss. I'll help you. It's gonna be fine._

He tries to send her this message through his eyes and he doesn't really know she gets it or not. But she slightly shakes her head. She disagrees for what he is about to do. Miss Peregrine is a fighter. Enoch knows she will not tell her children to surrender if their enemy isn't that dangerous. This wight must have been capable of something really dreadful. Something that can scare Miss Peregrine.

'Another question, son, if you don't mind...I've heard you've got a very...peculiar friend, Portman's grandson. I just want to know...where he is?'

This time Enoch turns rigid. He is certain that Jake and the rest must come to save their friends and their headmistress and they are probably in the town now. To tell the wight that they all are dead might sound a bit dramatic. Besides, he has no idea how good this wight is at detecting a lie. So Enoch takes a vey deep breath which is quite painful and answers as confidently as he could,

'I don't know. We waited for them at the dock on the island but they didn't come. They might take another ferry who knows.'

Here comes a moment of silence. Enoch doesn't take his eyes off the wight for he wants to appear innocent, scared, and hopeless which may make him more believable. Jake, Emma, Olive, and Millard are Miss Peregrine's and the other children's last hope. He is ready to give his all to protect that hope no matter what he has to do. He knows his friends will be here. He knows they will.

'Well,' the wight begins. 'so I guess we should wait for Mister Barron then. He is searching for your friends. For now, I think...I should...find some pleasure in...what I've just borrowed from my best friend.'

'No, no, no, NO!' Enoch yells at the top of his lungs when those dirty hands move again. He looks at the metal pipe and tries to get away from the chain. It hurts so bad every time he pulls it, but he bites a bullet and tries not to look at his bleeding wrist.

'STOP IT! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!'

The wight laughs maniacally and licks Miss Peregrine's neck. She is crying and Enoch can see she is terrified but she doesn't move. She just stands there and lets that bastard hurts her.

'Yes, be a good girl, my little bird, if you still love your children's life.' He whispers in her ear, loud enough so that Enoch can hear. 'If I'm happy, I might let one of them go, what do you say?'

'DON'T TOUCH HER!'

'Umm...your lips. I always wonder how sweet your lips are. I think I'm about to find out in a second. Would you please kiss me, my little bird? Kiss me.' His face is less than an inch from her face. Miss Peregrine is trembling.

'LEAVE HER ALONE!'

'Kiss me, my dear Alma. Just a kiss.' The wight slowly lifts Miss Peregrine's skirt. He grins at her, his lips nearly touch hers. 'Just..a..kiss. Agh!'

Enoch doesn't really know what happens after the first hit. All he knows is he has got this broken metal pipe in his hand and he wants to hit the man in front of him again and again, harder and harder until that monster can't breathe. Actually, he doesn't know at all whether the wight is still wailing and struggling or not. He just keeps hitting the bloody lump of flesh before him. That is all he wants to do. That is all he knows.

'Enoch.'

Someone calls him.

'Enoch, enough.'

That very sweet voice of hers.

'He is gone. Enoch. Look at me. Come back to me, Enoch. Enoch.'

* * *

Okay! Just tell me what you think. It's quite intense and violent I know, but the genre is angst, so here it is.


	10. Chapter 10

Author Note: Hi, my readers.

Sorry that it took me like an eternity to update this but I did my best to come up with this chap. Anyway, I think it's quite important to **warn all of you that this story might be a bit intense and violent. I might have to rate some chapters M just in case, so please, please, and please, read the author note so that you can be warned first what you're about to read.** Not every chapter is gonna be M, that's why I prefer to rate the whole story T. I will make the warning bold so that you all can see it clearly.

 **This chapter is also M. There are blood and a body though I don't describe them that much. If you don't like those stuff, I suggest you wait for the next chapter, my dear readers.**

Okay, now, back to not-serious mode. Thank you for every kind review from all of you as always.

For Harpyl, welcome to Long time no see. Thank you so much that you appreciate it. I, too, always want to know more about their background. The thing is I can't find that in the books nor the movie, so I decided to come up with it by myself. I like Caul as well. I just love his relationship with Miss Peregrine. You can find many other marvelous fics of other authors with Caul as the main character here, in . And they are great, super great. Some of them become my inspiration. There are so many great authors around here and I love their works so much. I think everyone should be afraid of Caul, even the bravest one. He is dangerous. And yes, I'll continue this story as far as it can go. As long as there are still readers, I won't stop writing. Thank you again for your support. Thank you.

For WOAH, WOAH, thank you. And yes, Enoch did get some swing. I'm so glad to hear that you like it. Thank you again.

For Sarah1224, thank you, dear. I'm so flattered.

For Axe, I'm sorry for the rate. I put it in Author Note but I didn't make it obvious enough to be seen. I'm terribly sorry that it upset you. Sorry.

For a guest who asked about Olive, the ice man, Malthus, will come soon. I won't miss him for sure. For Enoch's pain, it's my friend's idea and I think it's great. I mean you don't need to be peculiar but somehow, when something bad happens to those you love, you might feel something. Some strange feeling that you cannot explain. Olive just feels it stronger than others, that's all.

For I follow my heart, thank you and I suggest you sign up for an account so that you don't have to check it everyday, dear. Anyway, if you don't want to, I normally update this story once a week. You can check it every 7 day instead.

For Lily, thank you and yes, I promise I'll keep updating. Thank you so much.

Now, a very special thank for my twin sis, Yuna McHill, for beta-reading this piece of work. Without her the language wouldn't have been this perfect. Thank you so much my dear sis.

Okay now, I'll let you go but before that, please, don't forget to give me some reviews after finishing this. I'll wait to hear from you, my dear readers. Thank you in advance.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter X

'I want the blue one. Miss Peregrine's-feather blue. Can we do that?' Claire asked after dipping her whole right hand in the bucket of yellow color and imprinted it on the paper.

'Of course, the blue one. Why don't you ask Enoch to mix colors for you? I think this blue is too bright to be Miss Peregrine's-feather blue.' Olive, whose right hand was bright orange and left hand green, looked inside the bucket of blue color.

'Cawwww.'

'Really?' Little Claire asked the Twins, who seemed to agree with what Olive had suggested.

'Caw.' They nodded.

'Let me see.' Enoch who had sat there silently stood up and looked at the bucket of blue color. 'I think we just have to make it a bit darker, that's all. Could you please bring me the black one there?'

'Which one?' Claire tried to find the one Enoch asked for.

'The one in a corner.'

'Got it!'

Little Claire lifted the bucket and walked back to Enoch. She stepped past other buckets, making sure that she wouldn't cause a colorful disaster in Miss P's parlor, but when she almost reached Enoch, the girl jumped across the very large paper on the floor and -

CRANK!

What came next was the moment of silence, before it was completely des-

troyed by Olive's and the Twins' laughter.

Claire was stunned on the floor for a few seconds, but she couldn't help laughing at what she saw. Enoch knew right away what he looked right now must be quite... funny.

He hadn't seen his face yet since there was no mirror around, but he could feel a drop of color drip from his hair. It tasted quite weird on his lips and thank Birds that it didn't get into his eyes.

'I'm sorry.' Little Claire tried to hold her laugh but she just couldn't. So did Olive and the Twins.

'Here, let me help.' Olive giggled and used her hands to wipe Enoch's face, but after she had finished doing so, they all laughed harder and Enoch knew why when he saw Olive's hands. They were orange and green.

'I'm sorry.' Olive held her stomach, trying to breathe for she couldn't stop laughing.

Enoch gave them all a look which didn't really help. He couldn't speak, for he didn't want to taste the color more than he had already tasted. He stood up and found out that there were many drops of the color on the floor. He looked at his hands which were entirely black, as if he had just bathed in a pool of ink.

It was quite sticky, the color on his hands.

It has dyed his whole palms black.

It smells so disgusting like... blood.

It is his blood. That monster's blood on his hands.

His whole body trembles uncontrollably when he realizes what he has done. He looks at the body right in front of him and wonders for a few seconds how that wight died. But the answer is quite obvious in his hand. He quickly throws away the bloody metal pipe as if it were a snake. But blood, the wight's blood, is still on his hands.

Enoch has never been afraid of blood before, but the fact that he has just killed a man makes him quiver. It's not like he going insane or something, he just feels... hollow. Suddenly, he just automatically shuts himself from everything. He doesn't see, doesn't hear, doesn't feel, but the smell. The disgusting smell is too strong to be ignored. It keeps bringing the pictures of the body back. The wight's beaten face keeps flashing up in Enoch's mind.

'Enoch. Look at me. Come back to me, Enoch. Enoch.'

The voice, the voice that he longs to hear.

'Enoch, it's alright now. Enoch.'

'It's alright now.'

It was raining outside his bedroom. She held him in her arms, her hand rubbing his back. The pictures of Victor's body were gradually fading from his mind. Her presence slowly pulled him back into reality, the reality which is cruel but true, truer and clearer than the dark world he had fallen into. Her warmth gave him hope, hope that everything would be better, hope that Victor was in a better place, hope that they all would be safe under her wings. Her voice gave him power, power to rise up again, power to be himself, power to go through what would come.

'Let him go, Enoch. Let him go.'

It was hard, but Enoch knew it was time to say goodbye to his best friend. He saw Victor again. The blurry figure of his friend appeared in his thoughts. Victor was waiting, waiting for Enoch to let him go, to free him, to be happy again.

'Let him go.'

Enoch let go of his friend's hand. Victor gave him a last smile, before tur-ning around and walking away into the light.

'It's alright now. Come back to me.'

He heard her. He heard Miss Peregrine.

'Come back to me, Enoch. Come back.'

He hears her. He hears Miss Peregrine.

'Enoch.'

Enoch blinks repeatedly to clear his vision and his mind. He can't see anything except the navy blue collar of Miss Peregrine's dress. The boy tries to turn around, but Miss Peregrine quickly cups his face with her talon-hands, not allowing him to do so.

'Don't look back, Enoch. Look at me.'

The teenage boy swallows the lump in his throat. It doesn't go down at his will and it still robs him of his breathing.

'What you have done,' Miss Peregrine's eyes lock on his face, 'is self- defense. You saved me, Enoch. There's nothing wrong. Understand?'

Enoch looks at his hands, his bloody hands.

'Look at me.'

They are black, black and sticky.

'Look at me, Enoch.'

Miss Peregrine uses her dress to clean them, to wipe that disgusting liquid from his hands.

'It's alright, Enoch.'

His lips tremble, his hands tremble, his whole body trembles.

'It's alright.'

She holds his hands in hers and raises them up a bit. His eyes follow his hands until they meet her eyes, her sharp green eyes.

And finally, he sees her. He sees Miss Peregrine. He sees the woman he longs to see. She is here, with him, in front of him, beaten, bruised, bleeding, crying, yet smiling. Smiling her beautiful smile as always. To him. At him. For him.

'It's alright.' She tells him again, squeezing his hands, making them warm.

'Miss...' His tongue is numb, hard to move as if it were swollen. But he doesn't give up. 'Miss-. Miss P.'

'Yes,' Alma cries in relief, 'yes, it's me.'

Slowly Enoch leans forward and holds her tight. He has never done this before, but who cares? He has got her back. He has got his ymbryne back. His foster mother. The woman who loves them with all her heart. And in that moment, it's as if the armor he always wears has tumbled down. He has nothing to hide. All of his feelings, his tears of relief, his tears of joy, his tears of despair come out and that makes him feel better. That makes him feel alive again. That gives him strength. No matter what, he has to protect this woman. No matter what, he has to protect his brothers and sisters.

No one knows how long they have stayed like that. But this is not a proper place to linger and cry. Dangers are still lurking around them, eating the other children. Both Miss Peregrine and Enoch know their duty very well.

'We should go now.' Enoch mumbles. He doesn't want to leave this warm hug but it's true. They should go now.

'Yes.' Miss Peregrine answers and they both struggle to rise up, to stand on their feet. One can't stand properly, for her ankle is twisted and another can't stand tall for the pain in his torso is beyond imagination.

'Are you alright?' Miss Peregrine asks, trying to help her boy as much as her condition allows her to.

'Yes.' Enoch breathes out, gritting his teeth to endure the pain. 'I'm still fine.'

She knows he is not, but in this situation, she has no choice. They have to move on. They have to get out of here. They have to.

'Here, let me help.' She offers him a hand. He takes it, but doesn't transfer all of his weight to her for he knows her leg is hurt.

They both limp to the door like weary warriors losing the battle they didn't choose to fight. They try to ignore the fact that their injury would not allow them to go so far. They try to ignore it to preserve their last fragment of hope, the very forlorn hope that they could somehow get out of this nightmare and be happy again.

'Ready?' Miss Peregrine looks at her oldest ward, searching for something she doesn't have now- confidence.

Enoch nods and tries to appear strong. He has to be strong. She needs him as much as he needs her.

The Bird grabs the rusty knob and opens the door.

Fortunately, standing before them is not a hollow nor Caul nor Barron, yet they might not be lucky enough.

A man looks at them, a man, not a wight. He looks clean, tall, skinny, and fragile, even too fragile to be scary or... dangerous. Enoch thinks he can knock this one down but he still hesitates for the man doesn't have scary white eyes. He might be someone who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, he isn't that strong, judging from his bony limbs and hollow cheeks. But the man steps forward and Enoch feels threatened. It doesn't matter whether which side this man takes since now Miss Peregrine's and his friends' safety comes first. Enoch is about to charge when Miss Peregrine holds him back and steps forward, her eyes fix at the man's. He doesn't really understand this and he has no idea at all that his headmistress knows this stranger's name. She whispers it, softly like the wind, still audibly in this moment of silence.

'Myron.'

* * *

Thank you, Duchessfairy, for Myron's information. I've just realized that he isn't a wight. Thanks to her.

And okay, I know. *ducking behind something* Another cliffhanger! And Myron is here NOW! Don't kill me, please. I'll write the next chapter as fast as I can, I promise. Say something, will you? Till the next time then. Thank you.


	11. Chapter 11

Author Note: Hi, everyone.

I know I've gone for so long and I'm sorry. Now, my school life is so tough and I barely have time to write. Anyway, finally, I've finished this chapter. A bit short but I do love it.

As always, thank you for every support, every review, and everything. I feel like I don't deserve them since you have to wait for an eternity, but please, understand that I've tried to make each chapter as perfect as I can.

A special thank to my beloved sis, Yuna McHill, who has beta-read my work. Love you, dear.

Now, I think I'll just let you go and enjoy! Bye!

* * *

Chapter XI

'Myron.'

Alma's voice cracks. She tries to sound strong, but it is not easy at all when every ounce of her soul is shattering from despair, from anger, from sadness, from betrayal.

'Alma?' His voice doesn't sound even as well. He is so skinny, even thinner than the last time she saw him. He looks more like a skeleton, a ghost who has come back to haunt her. His eyes move from her eyes to wounds on her head, to cuts on her cheeks, to blood on her lips, and to bruises on her neck. 'What has he done to you?'

Alma doesn't answer. She doesn't have to since the answer is here, glowing brightly on her body. She can still feel the pain under every specimen of her skin and her warm blood dripping. Isn't it obvious enough what _he_ has done to her?

'You're working for him.' It's not a question. Myron is always with Jack. He always chooses Jack over her no matter what. After all they are brothers. Indeed they are, but _what am I? Am I not your sister?_

Myron seems a bit lost for a second. He doesn't wear a disgusting smile like Caul. His facial expression is something more like dim and gloomy. He doesn't look happy. He doesn't enjoy what he is doing right now. _Then why don't you just quit, Myron? Why are you here?_

'I've no choice, Alma.' He finally replied, looking away as if he doesn't deserve to look at his sister.

'You do have a choice, Myron.' Alma's voice isn't as sweet as always. Now it sounds like the faraway gale which is about to reach its destination in a minute, ready to destroy her target although she might not want to. 'You just did not choose it.'

Myron bites his lips. He sighs and looks at his sister again. He can't bare looking at her face. He can't bare seeing her blood and her bruises. For the first time in a century, some feeling rises in his mind. A fire that drives him to do something to put it out. Something like bringing justice to his sister. But he just ignores that idea. There is nothing he can do. Nothing.

'He promised he would not hurt you. He did promise.' Myron said, putting his hands into the pockets of his loose trousers.

'Hurting my sisters and children is hurting me.' Alma hisses. She doesn't want to but she just can't control herself right now. 'Besides, since when can you believe in our brother's words?'

'Yes.' He nods. 'Yes, I should have known.'

Silence. Such an uncomfortable silence surrounds them, stealing the air from their lungs, squeezing their heart as if it were just a sponge. It's the true silence without any communication. No gestures, no eye contacts as if the time were too lazy to tick.

'Those cuts need to be taken care of.'

It's Myron who makes the clock tick again. He knows it sounds weird to mention the cuts now but that's all he can do. _Really? Is that all I can do?_

'It doesn't matter, don't you think?' Alma fires back at him. 'He will try to make them worse. He will.'

She is scared, no, terrified. She is terrified. Afraid of the man who was born just a few years before her and Myron knows she has all reasons to fear Caul. He has witnessed what his elder brother has done to his sister. All hells broke loose every time that happened. What Alma has faced is beyond the most terrible nightmare a girl or actually anyone could have.

'I will help you.' He whispers, still hesitates whether this is a good idea. He then sighs and nods, repeating his decision, saying it out loud again to assure both his sister and himself. 'I will help you out.'

'And my children?' Alma knows the answer very well. She knows somewhere inside Myron's heart, goodness is still there, but he is too afraid to open his way for it, to believe in what is right for others.

But Alma still hopes. Hopes that, perhaps, one day or at this very moment, he's going to change. He is going to reach that part of his heart and see what he should really do. For a second, she is confident that he is about to agree to help her children, but when he ignores her stare again, she knows right away what he is going to say.

'I can get you and the boy out, Alma.' Myron offers, nodding towards Enoch who stands silently behind his ymbryne.

'And my friends?' The boy asks. He doesn't want to interrupt their conversation for he feels like this is Miss P's personal business but again, since Miss P is his ymbryne and this conversation seems to be important to his friends' life, he better be engaged.

'Sorry, son. I can't help them.'

'Then,' Alma tries to conjure up a smile. Not a happy smile, of course, but a sad one, a very sad and disappointed one. 'Would you please step out of my way so that I can go help my children?'

'Alma, it isn't worth it.'

'Don't you dare tell me what is worth and what is not!'

Enoch has never seen Miss Peregrine become this much angry. She is pointing at the man, her eyes fierce like a real falcon. She slowly closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to calm herself. When she speaks again, her voice is so cold and sharp like an ice dagger.

'You know nothing of that word. You have no idea what is worth fighting for. You just wait to be told what to do, Myron. Wait to be controlled. Wait to be used.'

It kills her. Every word kills her. But she fights her tears back and holds her head up high. She knows what she has said does not come out of her rationally. She has been moved by the fact that she is unloved. Her brother doesn't really love her. At least not as much as he loves his brother. And that hurts her. She has no one left. No one. They both leave her. They both force her to fight them. To take them as her enemies. But can she? Can she really see her boys as her enemies? After all what they have done, they _are_ her brothers. After all this time, although they might not have Alma Lefay Bentham left in their heart, they remain her brothers.

'Get out of my way.' She makes sure every syllable sounds crystal clear that it pierces deeply through his heart.

He looks at her. His eyes are blank and unreadable. He gives her a half-smile and slowly steps back, open a way for his sister.

'Thank you.' She tells him, trying to look as strong as she can. She holds Enoch's hand and looks at her brother for the last time before stepping past him down the corridor.

But they haven't reached the end of the hall way yet when Myron's voice cuts across the whole place.

'THEY ARE RUNNING AWAY!'

* * *

Okay, another big cliffhanger. Yes, I know, and I'm sorry. Please say something. I long to hear from you all. Thank you for reading this.


	12. Chapter 12

Author Note: Hi guys!

I know you've waited for so long and I'm sorry. Thank you that you are still here with me after all this time and thank you for every kind support from all of you.

For Staypeculiar, welcome to my world. Thank you so much for reading some of my stories. I'm really glad to have another friend travelling on this journey.

For Ash Wave, thank you so much my friend. You are always there and I'm so sorry that I keep you waiting for like…a month? I'll try to use your ideas as much as can but it might be a bit difficult cuz everything is plotted already. But don't worry, if I can adjust something for you, I will.

For Taylah, sorry, dear, that I have gone like for an eternity. My life is quite busy and I do try so hard to write but it's not easy at all. Anyway, this chapter is quite long. Hope it's worth your waiting.

For Harpyl, yeah he never learned and I'm so disappointed in him. I like him as well but I can talk about him now cuz I don't wanna spoil you.

For Sarah1224, thank you and sorry that it takes me an eon to finish this. I hope this one can make it up.

Okay, and as always, a special thank for my lovely Yuna McHill who perfects this piece of work by correcting my grammar. Love you as always and thank you so much, my sis.

Now, before I let you go, please do say something after finishing this. Your review always makes me wanna write more. It always lights me up. I don't know how I can explain this but I think it's like a feeling of a child who has met another child and they shares a toy, something like that. No one here around me reads Miss Peregrine and that's why I have to seek for some friends here instead cuz I know in here, there are a lot of people who share the same interest with me. Thank you in advance and yes, ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XII

Numb.

That is what she feels.

It's strange, isn't it, when one says he or she feels numb? How can you feel when you are numb? How can you feel when your whole body disappears temporarily from this world?

She doesn't know. All she knows is she still exists, for the voices in her head are so loud and annoying. Slowly they bring her senses back, filling her lungs with a pang from the cold air.

'Olive?'

Emma calls her, restoring her sense of reality. She blinks and breathes, trying to wake up from the trance.

'Are you okay?'

She nods, or actually, forces herself to nod. It's no use scaring her friends. The pain is gone and there is no way she can be 100% sure that it was because of Enoch. She better keeps that to herself.

'I'm fine.' Her voice doesn't sound as even as she wants it to be. She clears her throat and tries again. 'I'm fine, Emma.'

Emma still looks at her. But at least, she doesn't ask anything else.

'Good.' The floating girl says. 'Good.'

Olive looks around. She has no idea how long she has been gone but Millard hasn't come back yet. Not that she or anyone else can see him, but Jake is staring at the entrance of the building beneath the tower, so it's not hard to assume that Millard is still in there.

'Is he going to be okay?' Olive asks both because she is worried and because she wants to change the subject here.

'I don't know.' Emma replies.

Suddenly, the sound of a peregrine falcon cuts across the cold air into their ears. It's not Miss P's, Emma and Olive can tell. It's not from the real bird. It's Millard's.

'Quick!' Jake leads them to the door, watching around and staying behind to cover Emma and Olive. They all step inside and close the door, making sure that the hallway they've just entered is empty.

'Don't worry.'

The invisible boy's voice startles them all.

'Sorry. But don't worry. They are not here. Well, I mean the wights.'

Jake is stunned a bit when every eye turns to him before he realizes what they want.

'Oh, no. They are not here as well.'

'Follow me.' Millard tells them. He definitely forgets that it's hard to do so when he is completely naked. 'Oh, sorry. Hold my hand then.'

So Jake grabs the boy's hand and leads the girls down the corridor. They stay alert despite the silence, their eyes move around unceasingly, looking for any clues that can lead to their friends and any obstacles that will hinder their mission.

'It splits here.'

They stop before two different paths, one the size of a human, another large enough for an elephant to get through.

'We have to split then.' Emma suggests, though she knows that is dangerous. 'We don't have time. If they come back, it will be more difficult.'

More difficult sounds so underrated when it means more Hollows and wights. But Olive agrees with her friend anyway. It will be _much more difficult_ with those monsters. Their hope will dim or even die if they come.

'Listen,' Jake calls for their attention, 'fine, we're gonna split. We will try to find Miss P and the others. And then we're gonna go back to the island. Not by the ship. We're gonna mingle with the passengers on a ferry. Don't wait for others, okay? We cannot travel in a group. We're gonna go back to the island, but not to our house.'

They all flinch when Jake mentions their house, their shattered house. And Jake can see that. But he doesn't have time to comfort them, so he goes on,

'Remember the beach we go to? The quiet one that Miss P always takes us to swim.'

Again, another painful word from Jake's mouth. Their Miss P.

'There's a cave, right? The one behind those thick vines. Our favorite spot when we play hide and seek.'

Believe it or not, all of what he says has just happened a few days ago, but they all feel like an eon or something. The sunlight on their face, the warming sand, the cool salty water along with Miss Peregrine reading peacefully under a parasol seem like a dream, a very good dream that doesn't really exist. But the truth is, it does. And all of them are desperate to take it back, the dream those wights have snatched from them.

'We're gonna meet there. It's the safest place.'

The rest nod in agreement.

'Okay, I'm gonna take this way.' Jake points at the larger path. 'Obviously, if any Hollows are here, they will be where this way leads to.'

'You should go with him then, Olive.' Emma turns to her friend. 'He needs a fireball more than us.'

Olive hesitates a bit, but in the end she nods at Emma. She knows that leading the team isn't her strongest point and if the born-to-be leaders like Jake and Emma think this will work, she better listen to them.

'I'll go this way with Millard.' And of course, she means the smaller path.

'Okay.' Jake replies. He looks into Emma's eyes and she knows that he doesn't want to leave her, but both of them agree silently that there is no other better ways at this miserable moment.

'See you again soon.'

* * *

They are running.

It might be a bit strange to call their movement _running_ when actually what they are doing is limping as fast as they can to the place only Bird knows.

Miss Peregrine is so desperate to just throw away her shoes, for she cannot endure even a second more in those high heels, but first, she doesn't think she has time to do so and second, if there are shards on the floor, she will be doomed. Her ankle is throbbing crazily and burning as if it were on fire, yes, but with more cuts on her feet, she doubts how far she can go.

Enoch isn't any better than his ymbryne. The boy holds his bruised side and also tries hard to hold his face. It's not that difficult to do so in fact, for he is following his headmistress and can see every cut and wound on her body quite clearly. It makes him forget his own pain and worry about hers. If she is not a fighter, Enoch doesn't know who is. Enoch doesn't believe that anyone on earth will do this for them, especially without even a single hesitation. One of her arms seem to be in a wrong position, but Enoch is certain that she can still fly away through many small windows they have passed.

But she stays.

She doesn't leave them.

She never leaves them.

'Miss, where are we going?' He asks for she looks around as if she were trying to recall the way to some place.

'The dungeon.' Miss Peregrine answers and chooses the right path. Despite being dragged and tortured along the way, the Bird has tried her best to remember where the dungeon is, as it is the place she's determined to come back, as it is the place where four parts of her soul are imprisoned.

Enoch can't believe his ymbryne's memory. How on earth can she remember such a thing in a time like this? But that is what a person who has to be depended upon should be, right? Her wings are always around us. Make sure that we are safe.

'Here.' Miss Peregrine stops before the stairs leading down to somewhere below. 'But there's a doorman, guarding the dungeon.'

'That's not a problem, Miss.' Enoch grins and before Alma asks, the boy shouts at the top of his lungs down the stairs, 'MR. BARRON NEEDS YOU AT THE DOCK! LEAVE THE DUNGEON TO ME! THE KEY AS WELL!'

Then he quickly grabs Miss P's hand and hides behind a very big pillar on a corner.

It works. The doorwight says yes at once and leaves the dungeon in a minute without even asking who told him so.

When he's gone, Enoch and Miss Peregrine come out and run down the stairs. They find the key hanging on the wall not far from the door and also the lantern. Enoch grabs the latter while Miss P takes the former and tries to unlock the door with her shaking hands.

The first thing they both hear when the door opens is nothing else but a girl's voice, their little princess's voice, their Claire. Enoch clenches his fists learning that those bastards really put the girl in the dark dungeon. The girl cries louder and the twins begin to caw when Miss P calls them.

'Miss P!'

'CAWWW!'

When the light touches their faces, Enoch tries so hard not to throw away this lantern and go out to kill another wight. They are children, innocent children no matter how old they really are. How dare those devils do this to them? Bruises are bad enough, but cuts and blood are worse. What kind of man picks on the young? What kind of man hurts the weaker?

'Shh..I'm here now. I'm here.' The Bird caresses each of her children's cheeks, the thing she should have done the last time she went down here, but couldn't. She tries to open the door but now her hands are uncontrollably trembling. She can't even put the key into the key hole.

'Miss, let me.' Enoch touches her hands and gently takes the key from her. She has done so much for today and no one can blame her for why she ends up like this. She has been threatened, insulted, harassed, tormented, torn into pieces. This woman has endured all of those cruelties the world has spit on her face. This peculiar woman who is just an ordinary human being, who breathes like others, who can be hurt like others and who can die like others, does have enough for today.

'Oh my dear children!' Miss Peregrine literally falls down to her knees when Claire and the Twins run into her arms. The scent of her children reminds her that she still has her duty as an ymbryne to protect them all. Their touch warms her cold heart. Their voice makes her forget her pain for a while.

'Horace?' Enoch can't believe his eyes when the light from the lantern in his hand bathes his brother's blank face. He looks like a statue, a breathing statue with lifeless eyes. 'Horace!'

'Horace!' Miss Peregrine crawls to her prophetic boy who is rocking himself back and forth in a corner, staring at nothing. 'Horace, look at me.'

It doesn't work. He is trapped in the world where no one can enter if he doesn't allow it. No one can reach him, no matter how hard they knock the door.

It is like the first months when Horace had just arrived. In the middle of the night, he often screamed and rocked himself back and forth like this on his bed. Enoch remembers that Miss Peregrine barely had a chance to get some sleep at that time. She was with Horace all day and night to make sure that she could wake him up and comfort him after every nightmare. The Bird had tried so hard, using her love as a shield to protect Horace from his bad dreams. It worked in the end. With piano lessons and her caring, Horace did get better and better everyday. That's why it hurts Enoch to see what she has pulled her heart and soul into tumble down like this. To see one little heart that Miss P had delicately patched up break again. He can't imagine how painful it is for his ymbryne.

She gently touches her boy's rigid face and holds him as if he were a baby. Claire and the twins try to sit on her laps and bury their face into her shoulders. She strokes their backs, trying to calm them down. She has spent over a decade of her life to save her children's souls. She has given every ounce of her effort to pull them out of the bleak world they used to live in. She will never ever allow _anyone_ to throw them back in there again. Never.

'Don't cry, sweethearts. Don't cry.' She whispers in their ears while she herself is crying. 'Shh... my dear.'

As much as she wants to hold them there in her arms as long as she can, this is not the right time to celebrate their reunion nor mourn their suffering. Alma knows better than anyone what might happen if they are caught. She will not let her children be locked up in the prison again. That's why she has to gently push them back.

'I have to get you out of here.' She mumbles. Yes, what she should do is getting them out of this foul place as fast as possible, but she also has to help her other wards as well.

'Enoch.' She calls her boy. And when their eyes meet, Enoch knows right away what she is about to do. He always knows. Miss Peregrine is hard to read, yes, but when it comes to a situation like this, she is more than predictable.

'No!' He insists even before she says a thing. 'You take them out, I find the others. I will not let any beasts here lay their filthy hands on you again.'

'So do I.' Miss Peregrine fires back as strongly as her eldest son. 'Do you think I will let them hurt you again?'

'It's different.' Enoch doesn't give up. 'They... want you more than me. You're important to them, to that bloody experiment they are doing. Don't you understand? Without you their experiment is nothing.'

'And don't you understand, Enoch?' Miss Peregrine swallows the lump in her throat. 'Without all of you, I'll be nothing as well.'

'But-'

'I can't remember the way out.' Miss P comes up with a lie, Enoch knows. How can a woman who has just led him here to the dungeon forget the way out? Miss P's memory is known to be beyond human. It's impossible that she doesn't know the way out of here.

'I can't.' She repeats, her eyes piercing deeply into his. 'You have to do this, Enoch.'

It's no use trying to persuade her here at this moment. She will not change her mind no matter what. Debating whether she lies or not isn't what they should do now either. Time flies and their chance to get out might get slimmer every time each second ticks away. Still, it's hard for Enoch. The picture of that bastard's filthy hands creeping on Miss P's body is still vivid. The bastard whose body might still be there in that room. The bastard whom he has killed... murdered.

'Check in there!'

The Bird and the dead-riser stop breathing for a split second.

They're coming.

One?

No. Two or three of them.

'No time left, Enoch. I will lure them to the other side. You take them out.' Miss P tells her boy.

'But I want to stay with you.' Claire begins to cry again, holding Miss P's dress tight. So do the Twins.

'Children, you have to stay strong. Stay strong for me please. Can you do that?' Miss Peregrine begs. 'Your friends are in trouble and they need help. I cannot leave them here.'

'But you will follow, right?' The little girl asks and unbelievably, that simple question is really not easy to answer.

'Yes.' After a long hesitation, the Bird replies. 'Yes, I'll follow you everywhere you go. I will.'

The children might not see the dim light in her eyes, the fear that she might not see them again, the fear that this might be the last time she can hold her charges, but Enoch does see it. Enoch does see the hopelessness in his ymbryne's eyes and he dies to light her hope, to make her smile again but he just can't. He just can't.

Miss Peregrine gives the little ones a goodbye hug and a goodbye kiss on their foreheads. She slowly stands up while Enoch takes Horace from her and carries him on his back.

Yes, Miss P hasn't said goodbye to him yet.

'No!' Enoch stops the Bird before any words come out. 'Don't say anything. Meet us at the cave on our island. You know the cave. I think others might wait for us there as well. We will wait for you. And you will come. You will come. Promise me, you will come.'

It sounds like a command but Enoch's lips are trembling. When the Bird holds him, Enoch just let himself cry like a little baby. He tries to remember everything, every single thing about this woman. She will not be forgotten no matter what. He will come back for her if she doesn't follow them. He will come back for her even though there is no single hope left.

When Miss Peregrine leans back, she is smiling at him. Smiling but crying. A smile and a tear. She is proud of him, proud of a little boy who is not little anymore. She has held his hands for almost a century and it is so difficult, perhaps, the most difficult thing she has ever done, to let go of his hands. To let go of their hands.

'Promise us.' Enoch begs.

Miss Peregrine nods. She never lies and she always keeps her words. But she doubts she can still remain honest this time. Not that she doesn't want to. But to go back into the perfect life she once had seems to be so forlorn, so distant, so impossible. Still, she knows what she has to say. Still, she forces herself to promise her children.

'I promise.'

And that's her last word before she turns into a bird and flies out to lure those wights away.

* * *

Okay, what do you think? After all of these nightmares they've faced, I think I should give them some break like a reunion. But it's not quite a happy one I know since they have to part again. Thank you so much for reading this. Love ya!


	13. Chapter 13

Author Note: Hi, everyone.

I'm sorry as always that it takes me an eternity to finish each chapter but I have to say that's the best I can do now when there are many term papers and exams in my life.

Thank you so much that you are all still here and read this piece of work. I really appreciate that.

For Ash Wave, I thank you for every review you have given me and urged me to write. Every time you sent me a review, I just really don't know how to answer back for I cannot answer the guest directly here. I just want to tell you that I've not thrown away this story yet and I'll try my best to finish it for sure. Though it might take me a century or something.

For Sueli, sorry that my Portuguese is worse than bad and I have to use Google to translate your comment, but I think overall, I can understand what you've said. At first, I picture Caul as Andrew Scott and yes, Miss P as my Eva but when you came up with Collin Fare, I feel like wow yeah he really fits this role. Thank you so much for sharing this with me.

For Hayoen, thank you so much and yes, I've uploaded it already here.

For Staypeculiar, thank you so much. I'm so flattered.

For Harpyl, oh just stay alive please. I don't intend to be a murderer. Thank you so much and I'm so glad that you like my story. And yes, poor Horace. It broke my heart writing about him in this condition.

For Sarah1224, sorry that I've made you cry but I do love that chapter as well.

And this story, of course, cannot be so perfect without my dear sister's help, Yuna McHill. Thank you my dear for everything you've done.

Now just Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter XIII

No one knows why suddenly two scientists in a laboratory collapse at the same time, as if they were cursed by some invisible wizard.

But the thing is, Millard isn't a sorcerer. He is just an invisible boy who happens to know exactly why the two fall asleep. It's what he has learned from books on Miss Peregrine's shelf. Medicine names are not hard to remember when you read it again and again until those complicated words become simple ones, as simple as the word _apple_ and might be even simpler than the word _bird_ (since a bird isn't just an animal in the peculiardom). That's why when he happened to find one of the very strong sleeping draughts on a shelf in this lab, he knew exactly what he had to do.

He calls Emma using their signal, a peregrine's cry. Emma isn't going to like what he sees now, he can tell. Two wights on the floor are fine for her, but three friends on a bed are definitely not.

Millard is right.

When the floating girl comes in, he feels like he is standing beside a poisonous pufferfish or a soon-to-explode-in-a-second bomb. It's not that he isn't angry knowing what they have done to his brothers and sisters. It's just someone seems to be angrier, that's all.

'What have these two idiots done to them?'

That's not a question that needs an answer, Millard thinks. And although Emma really needs an answer, he doubts he can give her one.

'Don't panic.' He tries to calm her down, sensing that the storm is coming.

Emma takes a deep breath and slowly approaches the nearest bed on which Hugh is sleeping with a big tube from his mouth to a glass cage full of his bees. She touches his arm. It's colder than it should be. Hugh loves sunlight. He's always out there, in the garden, playing football with Millard. His body has never turned this cold before and his bees have never been separated from him.

On the next bed is Fiona. Instead of a big tube, she has so many wires on her body linking her with a monitor and a flowerpot. But nothing grows there. The irritating beeps from her monitor make Emma feel like her sister is in coma or something. She can't wait to throw that machine away, but she better leave this to Millard for he seems to know more than her when it comes to medical field.

The last bed is the worst. Bronwyn's limbs are totally tied up by leather straps. Her hands and feet have turned purple, for no blood can go there and her wrists and ankles have turned so red. It's the only bed Emma cannot just stand by and watch. She quickly tries to untie the girl. Each knot fills her heart with anger and a desire to get revenge. How dare they do this to them? How dare they do this to a child?

'Wyn.' She calls the girl. 'Wyn, can you hear me?'

Millard is busy with many tall shelves on the other side. He tries to find the right medicine to wake his friends up. They need some boosters, some proper boosters, of course. Miss P would definitely kill him if he injected something illegal into their veins. He finds it on the top of the middle shelf. It's not hard at all to find a brand-new syringe in this room. All he has to do now is injecting this medicine into his friends.

'Are you sure about this?' Emma asks. Not that she doesn't trust him, but she just wants to be sure that all of this will not get worse. After all isn't this a matter of life and death? She is worried for her siblings.

'Trust me.' That's all Emma needs. When the invisible boy says trust me, it means he is confident with what comes next. And when Millard is confident, it means he is 100% sure that there will be no place for any mistakes at all.

'They might need a few minutes to come back.' He grabs Hugh's hand. 'But they will be fine.'

So after the injection, they just wait. It might not be the best time to sit on another bed, calmly watching their friends like this, but Millard insists that it's what they should do. Thank Bird that not long after that, Hugh, Fiona and Bronwyn begin to move. They all have woken up from their nightmare and seem a bit confused, looking around. When they can remember what happened, they start panicking, struggling to climb out of their beds. Fortunately, Emma has freed them all from their hideous equipment, otherwise, the whole place would have sounded like someone hitting a large cymbal.

'Everyone, please, calm down!' Millard tries to comfort his friends and when they hear his voice and see Emma, everything stops and falls silent for a moment.

What comes next is beyond any explanations. Yes, this is not the safest place on earth. Yes, Miss Peregrine and others are nowhere to be seen. But all they want is just cherishing this very moment that they have found their friends, their brothers and sisters, again. They just hold each other and cry silently. Hugh almost kills Millard with his hug for he thought he would never see, well, find his best friend again. The girls just cling to Emma for they know that apart from Miss P, she is the most dependable person in their family. They enjoy that moment for a long while, absorbing every ounce of comfort they are craving for.

'Okay, time's up.' Emma announces. She wipes her tears and pulls herself back to the real world where she and her friends are in the wights' rendezvous. 'We need to get you out of here.'

'And others?'

'And Miss P?'

Millard looks at Emma. This decision is too big for him to make.

'I'll go find them.' Emma answers and some of the children begin to protest, but Emma is Miss Peregrine's first ward. That means it's not strange at all if she would become her foster mother if she really needs to. And when Miss Peregrine says it, no one can go nay.

'You have to get out of here. Everyone of you.' Emma insists. 'That's what you have to do. That's your duty.'

They all look at Emma quietly. Deep down they know that if all of them stay here, it's more likely that they all are going to be captured again. Except Millard and Emma, the rest feel so weak as if their energy was stolen. It's no use fighting in this condition. They will be more like a burden to the others. But to leave Emma alone here isn't what they plan to do as well.

'There is no choice left.' As if the floating girl could read their mind. 'You have to go. It's the only way. You have to get them to that cave, Mil.'

If Millard were not invisible, everyone would see him nod, look into Emma's eyes and hug her. Emma, who of course can't see him and doesn't know that he nods, holds him back. She doesn't say it out loud but Millard just knows right away what Emma is thinking.

 _Sorry that I have to leave it to you._

 _No problem, Em. Be safe._

 _You, too, Mil._

 _See you later._

 _See you._

* * *

Not a cliffhanger, right? I'll try to update as fast as I can but again, it might not be that fast. Sorry in advance. Please say something and if you want to see some scenes here in particular, you can suggest. I don't promise if I'm gonna use it but if I think it,s interesting and can fit here, I definitely will and I'll give you a credit in my author note as well. Thank you for reading this everyone.


	14. Chapter 14

Author Note: Hi.

I do try to update as fast as I can and yeah, it still takes some time.

For Harpyl, thank you so much for your lovely review. And yeah, when I wrote that, I really wanted to make the whole thing seem like an asylum or at least have a sense of it. Not that the 'patients' are crazy but the 'doctors' surely are. And oh dear, Barron finding the other children are, to be honest, not as terrifying as Caul finding them. Barron holds no personal grudge to Miss P but Caul surely does. You'll see soon how much he hates his sister.

For StayPeculiar, I decided to skip that part because I think it made sense you know when Caul invited them to 'play a game' and they ended up here, in a lab. They were experimented, not extremely experimented but at least, those wights tried to kind of see what they could do and it took their energy. In case you wonder, they haven't lost their peculiarity, no. They are just tired.

And thank you for other comments as well. I'm so grateful.

A special thank for my dear sis, Yuna McHill, as always and also Pearlislove who is still with me after all these months. Thank you.

Enjoy then! And please leave something for me. I die to talk to you.

* * *

Chapter XIV

After what feels like an hour, Jake becomes a bit dizzy from turning around so often to make sure nothing follows them. There is enough light in the hallway, so he thinks Olive better keep her fire for now. He is quite certain that her fireballs are going to be needed very soon.

So far, he hasn't met neither Hollows nor wights yet. Once he had thought this might have been some kind of trap, but at every corner he and Olive have passed, there's no monster waiting for them. They might go somewhere else. Yes, Barron has gone out to search for them out there, but Barron isn't the only wight here, is he? To be honest, almost an hour ago Jake didn't believed at all that he would survive this long. But again, yesterday he thought he couldn't survive today and he's still breathing, right?

Finally, this long boring path has led them to another room. It's a vast hexagonal hall like an arena that Jake's used to see in a circus. He and Olive quickly duck behind a row of chairs and hold their breath. _They_ almost see them. Those monsters with white eyes in the middle of the room.

'I've heard that you have found a way already, is that true?' It's a wight who seems to be the head of others since everyone around him often looks at the floor. Jake is sure that he has never met this wight, but even from here, the wight's face looks disturbingly9 familiar.

'It's Miss P's brother, Jake.' Olive whispers and Jake whips around to look at her, his eyes read _you're kidding me, right?_

'It's her brother. I can remember him.'

It's been quite some time, but Olive has never forgotten that face. On one of Miss Peregrine's September the thirds, every child had decided to go to the beach, but Miss P stayed home saying that she had to rearrange her bookshelves. When they had arrived, Olive had realized that she had forgotten her book at home. Seeing that Enoch could take care of the little ones and having nothing else to do, Olive had walked back to their house to get her book, but she had ended up finding Miss Peregrine on a couch in their parlor, stunned by what she was looking at on her lap.

Olive had never seen the Bird fall into a kind of trance like this before. The girl wasn't the most light-footed and her court shoes always made a sound, but even when she had been hovering over Miss P, calling her name, the ymbryne had still been trapped in her own world.

So Olive's eyes had moved from her headmistress to what caused all of this.

It was a picture. A picture of a wealthy family in Victorian clothes. Father, mother, two sons, and, oh my Bird, _is that Miss Peregrine?_

Apart from being kind, passionate, selfless, brave and extremely strict, the children, even Emma, barely knew their ymbryne, let alone her family. Miss P rarely told them about her life and they thought it was because she didn't want them to know how old she really was.

But it wasn't because of that.

 _Polite persons do not pry into other people's business._ Yes, Olive knew, but there had been something eerie about that man, not a father, more like a brother of her. His eyes were Miss P's eyes or actually, Miss Peregrine had his eyes, still they were different. In Miss P's sharp eyes, love was always present. But in that man's eyes, Olive had found nothing. They were hollow.

'Is he your brother, Miss Peregrine?'

Olive hadn't meant to ask, but her curiosity had been unbearable. She had wished Miss P would stay still, didn't hear what she said and she would just tiptoe out of the room, but it was too late, Miss P had finally come back.

'What?' The Bird had asked and Olive had been too afraid to ask again.

'Are you okay, Miss?' She had changed the subject. 'You seemed a bit shocked a minute ago.'

Olive could still remember Miss Peregrine's blank face. It was like her headmistress didn't know what she was doing until she turned to that picture again.

'Oh.' She put it in a book beside her. Apparently, she hadn't wanted her children to see this. 'I'm well, Olive.'

'Are they...,' Olive had begun again, 'your brothers?'

For a second, it seemed like Miss P would be going to kill her instead of answering her question, but surprisingly, in the end the Bird had slowly nodded.

'Yes, they are.' The Bird's voice was a bit rasp. Somehow Olive could sense that Miss P didn't like what they were talking about.

'Or actually, they were.'

The ymbryne had just left it there, didn't say anything more. And Olive knew better than to ask. Of course, at that time she hadn't known why Miss P had turned dim, but now she realizes exactly why. If anyone in her family became a wight, it would be hard for her to talk about them as well.

'Miss P's brother is a wight?' Jake tries to keep his voice down as much as he can.

Olive nods.

'But how can-'

The fire girl closes Jake's mouth with her hand and Jake is stunned a bit by the fact that if she weren't wearing gloves, his lips would be well-done already.

'Listen.' She mumbles.

'We did it all wrong, sir.' A wight in a white coat reports. 'Putting an ymbryne in a cage isn't the best way to extract their power. What we get from them will never be strong enough.'

Miss P's brother remains still as though he heard nothing. He just looks at another wight with his white eyes, hollow white eyes that say nothing.

'And?' He finally asks.

'We think...', the scientist wight looks at his colleagues, 'we think we might need to use uh..'

'Blood, sir. We need their blood. As much as one ymbryne can give us-'

'And stay alive.'

'Yes, and stay alive.'

'We've found that their blood is rich with some unique inexplicable power. Might be their second soul, sir. And their second soul is, of course, what we need.'

'The thing is...'

'Yes, the thing is...'

'We tried this with an old hornbill, sir, but...'

'But...'

'It didn't work.'

'Yes. It didn't.'

Miss P's brother waited calmly for further explanations, but beneath that calmness, a storm is forming for sure.

'She died.'

'She was too old to handle this, sir.'

'And her blood became useless when she died.'

'So...', finally he says something, 'what you idiots are trying to tell me is we have to drain an ymbryne as much as she can endure it?'

'And as much as we have enough blood as well.'

'You see the thing about that old hag is she didn't have that much blood.'

'Yes, sir. We need someone stronger. Someone younger, perhaps.'

Jake and Olive turn cold. It's not hard at all to figure which ymbryne fits those criteria. How many ymbrynes in the peculiardom are strong, young, and powerful? As far as Olive knows, it's just her Miss Peregrine.

It's not hard at all when your headmistress is a kind of a celeb to know how great she is from others who know her. Every time the children introduce themselves as Miss Peregrine's wards, all they hear is _Miss Peregrine? Isn't she the one who can transform into a bird since she was only five or something? I've heard she can manipulate time even before she turned twenty. I've never found any ymbrynes as powerful as her before._

All that time the children just receive those _compliments_ with a very proud smile. They are so proud to be Miss P's children. Obviously, her age- which is not that young to be honest, just younger than others, very much younger- doesn't stop her from becoming one of the greatest ymbrynes in peculiardom. However, it comes with a price as well. There are so many times Miss P has to endure something like _Did your brothers..: really...? Will they come after us? I'm sorry for your brothers._ The children never understand that, but they know their ymbryne doesn't really like it for she always gives those ymbrynes a half smile instead of saying anything.

'He isn't going to use his sister, is he?' Jake asks, fear of the obvious ans-wer. This man doesn't seem like a caring brother at all. But to kill his own sister? To torture her? Isn't that really... heartless and cruel?

'I think I know exactly to whom I should send you two.'

'No.' Olive murmurs.

'Does it hurt an ymbryne? This... experiment you're doing.'

Two wights in white coats look at each other.

'A bit, sir. I think.'

Something in his voice tells Jake and Olive that that damn experiment is more painful than those two have put it.

'Just a bit?'

Apparently, the two can sense that their leader isn't quite satisfied with the word _a bit._ One of them nudges the other and they try to correct themselves.

'Very much, sir, actually.'

'Yes, sir. It's a slow death.'

'Slow death, indeed, sir.'

'Ymbrynes are quite different from other peculiars. From what I've learned, extracting their power is like plucking their feathers.'

'No, it's more like a knife being thrust into their spine. More painful even than having poison run through their veins.'

Jake and Olive have absolutely no idea whether that is true, but it sounds too horrible to find an answer. Yes, they know that somehow this pleases Miss P's brother very much, but it's still weird and hard to understand the sadistic taste of this man when he grins and says to the scientists in a very kind tone, as if he were about to sacrifice something for the greater good,

'Then I give you my sister, my dear fellows.'

* * *

I know he sounds like a maniac but he is, isn't he? At first I pictured him as Andrew Scott but then when Sueli mentioned Colin Farrell, I just wow, yeah, he could be Colin. I mean Farrell seems to be quite taller than Scott thus he looks quite more intimidating. What do you think? Who is your Caul? And Myron? I won't ask about Miss P cuz for me, she is always Eva.


	15. Chapter 15

Author Note: Okay, I'm officially back.

I'VE JUST FINISHED MY EXAMS!

For those who are still with me here, thank you so much! I'm so glad that after a very long time, you're still waiting. For those who have just found this story, thank you as well. I'm so honored to welcome you to our world.

A special thank, as always, goes for my one and only writer sister, Yuna MacHill, who beta-read the whole thing and always be there for me no matter what. I know dear sometimes I misbehaved, disappearing for a week or two and made you worry. I'm terribly sorry. But I never forget you dear. Never. Oh! And I've added a few sentences to the last paragraph, just in case you wanna know _who_ is eavesdropping.

Now, come back to dearest readers.

For Alize, thank you so much and I'm so glad that you like it. You don't have to say sorry at all dear, English is not my mother tongue as well. And wow! French! I do envy you, dear. I'm a big fan of Eva Green and she is French! She will be in Cannes this month and oh dear, I wish I were you.

For Ash Wave, thank you that you're always here but I just want to ask you something. Is that your suggestions? I mean your comments. It is a suggestion, right?

For Hayoen, I'm sorry that I cannot answer you now but you'll see soon.

For StayPeculiar, I'm working on that now since you've suggested. Yes, they deserve to have a role in this. We will see. Thank you so much for your brilliant suggestion.

For Harpyl, I agree. I mean in the books, it's quite clear that he is small but since Eva plays Miss P in my fic, I have to kind of adjust other characters a bit so that they all can 'get along with each other.' For Myron, oh dear, although I've written about him already, it's still hard for me to picture him that clearly. Someone here suggested Tom Hiddleton. I think that's not bad. It works for me.

For Mo, yes, indeed, and it's gonna be even more intense. All I can say is you'll see. But don't expect too high cuz I'm not quite kind when it comes to a dark fiction like this. Oops!

For saltylemons, I think Miss P inherited something. I mean it must have been impossible to take care of a dozen of children in that fabulous manor without money, right? Yeah, sometimes I do wonder whether I've gone too far with Caul, but since when I first wrote this story, I wrote another one which is fluffy so I wanted to have something dark so Caul appeared like that. A snake sounds great with Caul to be honest. I love the idea. Thank you so much.

Okay, now enjoy!

* * *

Chapter XV

Enoch isn't quite sure what is more difficult, carrying Claire while holding the Twins' hands or carrying Horace while holding Claire's hand and having the Twins cling to him like this. The little ones are still sniffling. Enoch tries to comfort them as much as he can, but they have just... lost their mother. He doesn't expect them to smile and run around soon. And Horace. The last thing he wants is Horace waking up and screaming. It's not going to be good to make a sound in this dark corridor where even a breath can be heard.

The little ones are so quiet. The Twins don't caw as always and Claire doesn't say a thing. They are young, yes, but many decades have taught them to be a bit mature, to be able to read between the lines that their ymbryne might not come back to them again. Claire has bit her nails since she has left Miss P and that worries Enoch, for she will do this only when she feels really insecure. She didn't bit her nails when the Hollow attacked their house, for Miss P was there. This is worse, Enoch knows. This is probably the worst for they might be about to lose their beloved ymbryne.

 _No. You know Miss P can make it. She can make it._

Suddenly, his thought stops as well as his breath.

Enoch is no bird and he doesn't have the sharpest ears in the house, but this place is so quiet that it's not hard at all to hear someone else's footstep or actually, it might be more than someone. Three? No. Four.

He quickly steps in front of the children, using himself as a shield. There is no place to hide and the only way to get to the main door is passing this crossway. Running back doesn't help either. They will surely catch up, for he isn't in the right state and the little ones aren't that fast.

 _So come what may._

Claire is about to scream when she sees the newcomers, but luckily the Twins close both of her mouths in time.

There in front of them are not wights. There in front of them are not the creepy Hollows. There in front of them are not those monsters. They are no one else but their friends. Their four brothers and sisters. Fiona, Hugh, Bronwyn and because the tough girl seems to be holding someone's hand, they know Millard is there.

'You scared me!' The invisible boy cries happily.

'You too.' Enoch smiles and although he doesn't do this often, he just walks straight to Millard and gives him and Hugh a hug.

'Tell me this is not your blood.' The bee boy touches Enoch's shirt which is soaked with red liquid.

'Mostly not.'

'And what happened to Horace?'

'He's trapped in his nightmare. We need to get him out of here.'

'And Miss P?' Fiona asks. She looks around to see whether the Bird is around, but finds no one.

'She...,' Enoch strokes Claire's back, making sure that she will not burst into tears here, 'she went to help the others.'

'You've found her?' Hugh asks. 'Is she okay?'

'Y... yes.' Enoch nods, hesitant of what to say. 'She is fine now. Just... go back to help the rest.'

'We cannot do this, Enoch. They don't know how many of us are still in here. We have to tell them. They must know that they don't have to search for us now. Emma stays behind to find you and Miss P too.' Millard tells his big brother.

'Yes.' Enoch mumbles. 'They must know.'

'We decided to meet at our cave on Cairnholm.' Millard tells him. Of course, it's the place Enoch has chosen as well. 'You bring them there and I'll go find the others here.'

'No.' The dead-riser shakes his head. 'No. I think it's you, Millard. They need you to get them there.'

'What?'

'They need someone like you more than me.' Enoch explains. 'I don't think my gift can be... unnoticeable.'

Millard becomes quiet for a minute. Enoch is right. Getting the dead to steal ferry tickets might send them to tomorrow's front page and that is definitely not what they want.

'You take them there, Millard, and I will get the others.'

'Are you sure you'll be fine?'

'Yes.' Enoch kneels down and gently gives Horace to Bronwyn. 'Are you good?'

The girl nods. Bronwyn is tired a bit, but she knows this is a matter of life and death and definitely not a time to whimper or complain.

Now everyone is ready to go. Everyone but Claire. The Twins are holding Fiona's hands, but the youngest one in the house is still clinging to the ol-dest. She is crying quietly again. She has just said goodbye to her foster mother and what? She has to say goodbye to her brother too?

'Claire.'

'No.' She murmurs.

'Claire, listen to me.' Enoch holds her hands, gently brushing them. 'Do you want to see Miss P again?'

The little girl slowly nods.

'And Olive?'

She nods.

'And Emma?'

She nods.

'And Jake?'

She nods.

'So you have to go with Millard, okay?' Enoch looks into her eyes. 'Go with them and I will go get Miss P and the others.'

Little Claire looks back into his eyes. Tears are still falling.

'We will follow you. We will... we will take a ferry and go home. We will... we will go home, okay?' It's the worst lie Enoch has ever told someone and he doubts Claire believes it. But in the end, after a few minutes, Little Claire decides to give her big brother a hug and a kiss on his cheek, before wal-king to Fiona.

'Go home, you promise.'

Not a question.

'Yes. I promise.'

He doesn't really know if that is truly possible. But please every Bird, don't make two people break the promise they have given to this little girl. Claire will wait, he knows. She will wait no matter how long. And he doesn't want her to wait for someone that will never come. He doesn't want the rest of Claire's life to be like that.

He turns aways from Claire's blue eyes and looks at where Millard must be.

'Barron is still out there. Be careful.'

The invisible boy pats Enoch's arm.

'You too.'

* * *

'Then I give you my sister, my dear fellows.'

Caul announces and joins his hands as if there were nothing better nor more perfect than this. He doesn't really care about the two idiots in front of him. They are Myron's people. They are as weak as him, but worse since they haven't got his brain. But that might be Caul's advantage, for they know every theory Myron has come up with and without them, Caul might have a problem when the patient on the table is his beloved sister. Myron will not hurt her. So Caul is going to make it easy for his brother; he doesn't have to do it on his own, but of course he can stay and watch if he wants to.

'I'm sure she meets every criterion you've mentioned. But I do have one question.'

The two wights try to smile but apparently fail.

'Will she survive? After what you're going to do to her.'

Now they take more time to look at each other's face. Caul knows they are seeking for the 'right' answer which might not be true, but must please him most.

After a good minute, they turn to face him again, nudging each other to speak.

'We have never tried this on a young one before.'

'But we're quite sure that she's gonna survive this.'

'She has to, sir, if we need her power.'

'As we have told you, her blood will be useless if she dies.'

'That's good.' Caul says indifferently. 'I would be quite sad if my dear lovely sister died so... peacefully. But didn't you say it was a slow death?'

Caul tilts his head a bit and his cold aura begins to spread from his white eyes.

'Oh...'

'It's...'

'Uh...'

'We mean...'

'We mean... the process is as painful as a slow death, sir. But she won't be dead. We need her alive.'

'Indeed, we need her alive, sir.'

The two wights are holding their breath, waiting for any responses from their master. When he moves again, the two almost heave a sigh.

'Good.'

Nothing more. Just one word. It's hard to tell what to do next. The two shift uncomfortably in a moment of awkwardness when Caul is wandering in his own thoughts. They, of course, don't dare to move their legs and leave their master. They won't unless Caul says so. But to stand there before him might not be a right choice as well. They look at each other, trying to come up with some solutions.

There is none. So the two wights thank every wight or even every Bird (they used to say that when they were young) that another wight has entered the room, panting heavily as if he were working out.

'Mister Bentham, sir!' His name is Eric. He has just turned to a wight a few hours ago so it's hard for him to walk properly like a man. Everything is quite new for him. 'Mister Bentham!'

'Ah!' Caul quickly leaves his trance behind and turns around to face the newcomer. 'Mister Jones, glad to see you here. Has Mister McGrath fini-shed... whatever he wished to do to my sister? I'm afraid I need what is left of her now.'

'Sir,' Eric stutters, 'he is... he is gone, sir. Mister McGrath. Beaten to death.'

Suddenly, Caul's eyes turn dim. Beneath his calmness, anger is boiling and waiting to erupt. He slowly approaches Eric, asking the wight what he thinks he knows is the answer exactly.

'And my sister?'

Eric looks back, hesitating whether to answer or not. But he was asked and he thinks he should reply no matter what.

'No where to be seen, sir. So is the boy. And the children in the lab, sir. They are all g-'

He hasn't finished his sentence yet when a strong talon-like hand grabs his neck and lifts him up. Poor Eric tries to free himself, but he is nothing more than a hopeless rat or a doomed rabbit, a falcon's meal.

'Sir-' He tries to grasp some air but his master doesn't allow him to.

After a few minutes, his face turns blue and his eyes widen. His writhing body gradually stops dead and when Caul lets go of him, Eric falls to the ground, no longer breathing.

Caul uses his foot to turn Eric's face, making sure that he is dead. He doesn't say anything and that is not a good sign for the two wights who are now hugging each other.

If another wight hadn't come in, they would have been the next corpses for sure. Thanks to Barron and a few Hollows who have just returned from their mission, the two scientists can slowly retreat to one corner of the hall.

Barron's smile rapidly disappears when he sees Eric's body on the floor. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to conjure up his smile again before addressing his master.

'Mister Bentham, sir.'

'You better have a good news Mister Barron.'

Barron becomes silent. But he is clever enough to know that silence can also bring him death.

'Maybe Lars can enjoy Eric's eyes, sir.' He laughs but since his master doesn't, he stops.

'Go on Lars. He is yours. At least, I hope that will bring me a more intelligent man, just in case we lose another in a few moments.' Caul tells the largest Hollow in the group and it quickly drags the body away.

'I hope you will still be my right-hand man, Mister Barron.'

'Sir...,' Barron tries to maintain his smile and before his master's claw reaches him, he reports, 'I found one, sir. I found one.'

'One?' Caul asks. 'Out of what, a dozen?'

'Sir... have mercy, sir. Have mercy.' This time Barron falls to his knees, begging. 'I promise you, sir. This one. This one is a special.'

'Is is Portman's grandson?'

'No sir... but!' Caul's talon is at Barron's neck. 'She is her first ward, sir. The first one. The one we saw with your sister in the old days.'

At least, that can buy Barron some more time. Caul seems to be more or less satisfied with what he has just heard.

'And where is she now?'

That makes Barron smile again. He rises up, adjusting his suit.

'In a very proper place and ready to be used, sir.'

Then he shows his master the way to what he claims he has. They walk out of the hall, one so eager to show his master what he has done, the other eager to see something good from his minion. That is why no one hears the sound of the wings flapping high above their head. That is why no one notices her blue plume and glistening green eyes.

* * *

Hooray! Yes, it's her! It's Miss P! Please, say something, pretty please. I die to hear from you all.


	16. Chapter 16

Author Note: Hi!

Thank you for every review from everyone. I really appreciate that. I know I told you this already but again, you have no idea how much your comment means to me.

Okay, and as always as well, thank you my dear, Yuna McHill for beta-reading this. I can't thank you enough for you've done for me, dear. Thank you.

For Betsy, thanks and here it is, the next chapter. I promise I'll do my best to finish the next one asap, dear.

For Ifollowmyhart, thank you for your comment. I'll try to update asap.

For Sarah1224, thank you that you're still here with me after this very long time.

For Alize, first of all, thank you and also, good luck with your exam, dear. I see, but at least you're very much closer than I am. It's, indeed, a huge high and seek game but soon they will be found. What matters is who is going to find who. Thank you for waiting for this. I don't know French but I think I get this right, Merci. (Correct?)

For Hayoen, first of all, thank you for every kind word you gives me dear. Yes, I agree that it's so strange Claire chooses Enoch. When I read the books, I couldn't see that coming at all but in the movie, when I saw he hold Claire in the ship, I just felt so...idk, warm. And then I kind of want to explore their relationship as the eldest brother and the youngest sister of the house. As you can see, in almost all of my stories, Enoch is always there for Claire if Miss P or others are not available. Thank you so much again.

For StayPeculiar, you will see, lol. Thank you so much that you're still waiting no matter how long I've gone.

And for another StayPeculiar or the same one I'm not sure, yeah, Caul is evil. And don't be so glad too soon, dear, I warn you. Miss P's misery hasn't ended yet. Thank you so much.

Okay, now, before I let you go, I have to inform you first that there is an idea in this chapter that doesn't belong to me. Long time ago when I've just begun writing this story, someone suggested this idea and asked me to include it in this story. I thought it was a very brilliant idea so I said yes. The thing is I cannot remember who suggested me this idea. I'm terribly sorry for that. So, if you are the one who suggested me please let me know so that I can give you credit and thank you again. I will tell you all in the end what that idea is so that you can enjoy the chapter without any spoilers first. But I think if you are the one I'm looking for, you'll know what that idea is.

Okay, so now, just ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XVI

Emma is floating, perhaps more than 10 meters above the ground. It is freezing up here and she is wearing a very thin dress, fluttering like she is a flag or something. The only reason why she doesn't float up higher is a very thick rope around her ankle. It is tied so tightly that her little foot has gone numb.

'Smile, gal! Smile!'

She looks down at the ground where a nasty old man is yelling at her. He is Mister Gray, the man who bought her from her parents.

'Smile or nothing to eat tonight!'

He's pointing at her, but then turns to give a well-to-do couple a bow, selling them tickets, welcoming them into the circus tent. He turns to see her again, his eyes are furious.

'Smile!'

Emma forces herself to smile. It must be very ugly, since she's about to cry. She hates it here. She hates that every eye down there is looking at her, laughing at her like she's a Chimpanzee in a zoo. She holds herself tight. A gust of harsh wind cuts her cheeks. She can taste blood on her lips. She tries to think about something good, but no matter how hard she tries, no-thing comes up. All she can remember is her father hitting her with his belt, her mother slapping her and calling her a witch before running away. She doesn't even really know what a witch is. How can she become something or someone she doesn't know? Is this her fault when she cannot stand on the ground normally like others?

Emma's vision becomes blurry until all she can see is her own tears. If she cries here, Mister Gray will surely put her in a cage in his cellar and starve her for days. She can't cry now. She just can't.

But a single teardrop falls down and then she can't hold them back any longer. She hears the old man growl down there and he rapidly pulls her down. She is about to be hit, she knows it, not publicly of course, but down there in the dark room.

At that moment, when Emma is only a few meters above the ground, she sees a very strange lady looking at her. The lady's hair is bluish raven and her face is quite pale. Her eyes are piercing green and they are very sharp like a hawk's eyes that Emma used to see while traveling with the circus. She wears a black coat, totally different from other ladies around here who wear colorful fluffy dresses.

'You're in a very big trouble, gal! Big trouble!' Mister Gray pulls Emma to the ground and drags her to the tent, yanking the rope.

'Please!' Emma tries to beg. Her foot is bleeding, for the rope has cut her flesh.

'Come here, gal!' Mister Gray shouts and pinches her. When he jerks her again, Emma slips and falls into a puddle of mud. He swears and grips her arm tightly, pulling her up.

'Get up!'

'Would you please stop it?'

There is a brief moment of silence before Emma turns to see whose voice it is. She gasps when she sees the strange lady again, standing in front of Mister Gray, her face looks stern.

Emma knows she is about to be helped. She knows because she has had this dream since she was very young and although the first part of the dream is such a nightmare, every time Miss Peregrine turns up is always such a blessing. The Bird will help her, she knows. It's a dream, yes, but also a memory from the old days. That's why she knows precisely what is going to happen next.

The thing is, this time Mister Gray doesn't change his face in just a second. He doesn't give Miss P such a broad smile that Emma can see his gum. He doesn't say 'Excuse me, Milady, how many tickets do you want to buy, may I ask?'

Actually, he becomes someone else.

He becomes Barron.

The wight laughs maniacally and turns his right hand into a blade. He quickly approaches Miss P and before Emma can do anything, he stabs the Bird in the side, the tip of his blade comes out from Miss P's back.

Emma screams.

When that monster pulls his hand back, Miss P falls down to her knees, blood oozing slowly from her wound. Her piercing green eyes turn dim and Emma can see her life slipping away.

'Please, don't leave us!' The girl begs, struggling to get to her dying ymbryne. 'Please, don't leave me!'

But Barron drags Emma away. To where? she doesn't know. All she cares is the body of her soon-to-be mother, lying there on the cold earth and will be buried beneath it very soon.

'No!'

* * *

Cold.

It is cold.

It is so cold.

It is freezing.

 _I'm not breathing._

Emma opens her eyes and all she can see is darkness.

At first, she doesn't realize where she is, but when she forces herself to breathe in, she finally finds out why her body has stopped breathing.

Cold water fills her lungs quickly and pierce through her chest like a thousand needles. It squeezes her heart and for the first time in forever, Emma thinks she has just got a glimpse of how drowning is like. The floating girl chokes so hard, but she tries her best not to breathe in again. Another breath might make her fully understand what drowning is. She tries to calm herself, but it's quite hard when she is surrounded by water. Cold unfriendly water and infinite darkness.

 _Where am I?_

She reaches out her hands and starts panicking. Just a few inches before her is a glass - a very thick glass, she can tell when she knocks on it. When her legs stretch out, just a few inches behind her is a glass as well. So is at her left and her right. She raises her hands up and finds out that just a few inches above her is also a glass. In other words, Emma is pretty much in a coffin filled with water.

'Help!' That's what she says or tries to say through this cold unkind liquid. She can't see anything at all, even her own hands. For a split second, Em-ma can't help but wonder whether she becomes blind. The girl smashes the glass repeatedly. She feels like she is a corpse now, with a shroud and e-verything. Suddenly she becomes claustrophobic. She feels like she is dying. But she is, isn't she? She is really dying. She is about to die.

After a good minute, Emma has learned that there is no use doing what she is doing. The only thing it helps is to make her die more quickly. There is not much left of her air and she better save it. At least, she can stay a bit longer if she just... floats.

 _How can I end up like this?_

Emma tries to recall her memory.

 _What happened?_

Barron's face flashes in her head. He found her. Or actually, _she_ found him while he came back from his mission. Emma blew him against the wall with all of her power but he wasn't afraid of her at all. He waited there, babbling like a baby, waiting calmly as if he were sunbathing on a beach.

'Eventually, you're going to run out of breath. And it'll all be over. Death for your beloved Jake and Miss Peregrine...Everlasting life for us all!'

His voice still rings in her ears. And he is right. When she had felt too tired to blow against him, when she fell, when everything turned dark, when she had no energy left to defend herself, all she could remember was that she was dragged somewhere and thrown into the very cold water. This very cold water. But why? Why has he put her inside this glass box? This doesn't look like an experiment. It looks more like a...

Emma jumps when her shroud is taken off. She leans back, startled by the new sight of the large indoor arena. Everything is blurry, but at least she can tell that there are a few people in front of her.

Wights.

Barron is there as well. But the one who approaches her is not him.

When the wight before her touches the glass and looks into her eyes, it takes Emma only a minute to know who he is. Although she knows nothing about Miss Peregrine's family, Emma is certain that this wight must relate to her ymbryne in some way.

Although they are white and lifeless, they are definitely her eyes. He has her eyes.

He has Miss Peregrine's eyes.

* * *

Okay, so, obviously, the idea is the water tank. I think it's a very cool idea and very fun to write as well. What do you think? Not just about the idea but yeah, the whole chapter.


	17. Chapter 17

Author Note: Hi!

Thank you so much if you are still here. I'm working now and my working life turns out to be such a big mess. That's why I have been gone for so long. Now, I'm back with another chapter. Don't worry, it's just that I'm gonna take more time to finish each chapter. But I will surely finish it one day.

Thank you for every support as always.

For Ifollowmyhart, oh it's you! Thank you so much. That's why I cannot find it in PM cuz you suggested that here. Thank you again for your idea and I promise I'm gonna do my best to make it great.

For StayPeculiar, thank you. But I have to thanks my friends and some readers as well for those creative ideas they share with me. Anyway, I'm glad you like it.

For Sarah1224, thank you. I will dear. For sure.

For Harpyl, me too. I must be super claustrophobic there and pant so hard and quick that I choke to death like in only a few seconds. It's okay. I can understand that. And thank you. So this is the next chapter for you.

For Ash Wave, I'm really interested in that. If I have time, or maybe after finishing the next books of Miss P, I might try that.

Okay, now, A special thanks goes to, first, my dear Yuna as always for correcting this. And, secondly, to Ifollowmyhart for the super evil but creative idea of the water tank. Thank you. Like really really thank you both of you.

Now, I'll let you all go.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter XVII

A door.

There's a door to a mezzanine of the backstage leading to exactly right above those wights' heads.

The only two problems are first, it is locked and, second, it is made of metal.

'No. No, no, no, NO!' Jake mumbles, shaking the knob, but, of course, there is no use. 'It's Emma.'

From the small window of the door, he can see a glass box and Emma very clearly. Her pale golden hair spreads around her face but instead of looking like an angel with a halo, she looks more like a dead body. She doesn't really move so, at first, Jake almost falls to his knees, for he thinks she's gone already but when she blinks, he then realizes that she just wants to save her air. Yes, Emma can hold her breath under water for a good minute, but the question is for how long? And Jake has absolutely no idea when she was put in that box. That frightens him. That feeling comes back again, the feeling when he saw Emma jump into the sea with her lead shoes for the first time. His stomach twists and becomes heavy as if he had swallowed down the girl's shoes.

'Let me try.' Olive pushes Jake away and takes off her glove. The moment she touches the metal knob, she is certain that this is going to take her some time and that some time might be too late for Emma. Jake can see that as well.

'I'm going to find other ways.' He tells Olive.

The door where the wights have just passed is now locked as well. Jake begins to consider the last choice - screaming or doing something to get their attention. But the thing is, he cannot be sure that if he does so, Emma will be safer. Those wights are so unpredictable that they are so predictable. Something bad might happen to Emma and they will capture Olive and him as their hostages instead.

'Damn!'

There are only two doors leading to that room. Both are made of iron. Thick iron. Apparently, the wights have successfully turned this place into a peculiar prison, ready to be a fort if the war is to come.

'Jake!'

'What?'

Jake quickly climbs back to Olive. She is pointing at something. Something above her head.

It's an air vent.

'Alright.' He looks around, trying to find something to stand on so that he can get in there. It's big enough for him.

'You try to melt that, okay?' Jake tells Olive while lifting a few crates he found behind a row of chairs. 'If I can get in there, I'll open a door for you.'

Olive nods and keeps burning the iron while Jake opens the cover of the vent and climbs up there.

It's cold in here, colder than the outside. It might be because he has just left Olive behind, but again, this is the air vent where no sunlight can reach. Jake doesn't expect it to be warm.

He crawls through this square tube like a soldier crawling in the trenches. Is this how they feel? Anxious. Confused. Scared. He doesn't know where he is but he keeps moving on, choosing the direction he thinks will lead him to her, to Emma. And as if someone had heard his wish, another cover he finds is just above the mezzanine, not far from the wights at all.

He tries to open the cover. But he can't.

'I remember.'

It's Miss P's brother. He is standing right before Emma.

'I saw her when she was little. When Alma had to carry her everywhere, even when she went to that silly council of hers.'

'Pretty...', he faintly smiles, 'and fierce... like your Bird.'

Jake doesn't like the tone of the wight's voice. It suggests something catas-trophic. Whatever that disaster is, he doesn't want Emma to face it. He tries to push the cover as quietly as possible, but to no avail.

'How long can she stay in there?'

'Usually quite... long, sir.' Barron stutters. 'But she has just used all of her air. I'm not... sure.'

'I don't want her to die. My dear Alma must have been so desperate to see her little chick.'

'Then we might have to hurry a bit, sir, I'm afraid.' Barron tries to conjure a laugh, but fails.

That's when Jake can no longer watch this. He decides to crawl back and see whether Olive has made any progress melting that damn door. But when he pulls his right arm back to prop himself up a bit, everything goes wrong.

The air vent cracks and the sound is so loud as if something exploded, not to mention the echo that resonates across the room. Half of Jake's head is behind the cover, but he doesn't dare to move.

'What is that?'

Good. Now, he has their attention. What should he do next? Is there a plan B? Oh, wait, he forgets he doesn't even have a plan A.

'Mister Barron, could you please do me a favour?'

That's not good. It might be hard for Jake to open the cover, but he is confident that Hollows could rip this vent open in a second and from where he is, he can see two of them lurking around down there. Now, it's all because of the darkness that he is still, well, safe.

'Ouch!'

Something almost rips his eyes out. It is very sharp. And Jake thinks, before he closes his eyes, he sees flashes of familiar yellow and blue colour. When he opens his eyes again, the first thing he sees isn't the cover, the air vent or Barron but... a talon. A pair of talons right in front of his face, gripping the cover hard, carrying its owner's weight.

If Jake hadn't just nearly lost his eyes, if Emma weren't being locked in that water tank and if Barron weren't coming here to get him, Jake is sure as hell that he must have screamed out of happiness despite the fact that he would be admonished later for screaming at _her_ face.

Yes, it is _her_.

'Miss Peregrine.'

Although it's dark here, Jake can see dried blood on her feathers. One of her talons cannot grip the cover as hard as the other, as if it were twisted. What on earth did those maniacs do to her? Isn't she a woman? Isn't she a mother of twelve children?

Jake doesn't know what to say. He just looks at her, completely forgets that he is in a situation. It's when she looks into his eyes and slowly shakes her head that Jake realizes she is up to something.

'What?'

If he were Olive or other children, he would know for sure what she means. It reminds him that after all he has just met her for a few months, but that fact doesn't make him feel down. Actually, it surprises him that although it's only a few months, he can love them this much. He loves them as if they were his family. No. They _are_ his family. They are his sisters, brothers, and... mother. No matter what, he will get them out of here.

'What do you mean?'

Of course, Jake doesn't know bird language. And even if he did, he doubts he would understand her. Apparently, she talks to him, not as a bird but as a human. He has never seen a bird shake their head like this before.

It's her eyes that finally tell him what she wants at the end. Her sharp green eyes, full of love and meanings.

'You want me to stay back?'

She nods.

'But Emma needs help.'

She doesn't give him any other answers. For a split second, Jake's heart drops to his stomach when the Bird loosens her grips and falls down right before him. But it's not because she can no longer hold on. She does a summersault, flips her wings, and screeches loudly to draw every attention to her.

She is trying to help him.

It's too late for Jake to stop her. Every eye in the room now fixes on nothing but her blue plumes, yellow beak and large wings.

'It's her, sir!' Barron looks up, following the Bird like a child following a kite.

Miss Peregrine plunges straightforward to something and at first, Jake thinks she's going to get him, that sadistic brother of hers. But no. There is something or actually someone more important to her. The Bird lands on the glass box and starts using her sharp beak to... well, deal with the metal lock.

It's impossible, Jake knows, but they are driven to despair. There is nothing else they can do. Yet seeing Miss P pecking at that lock makes Jake's heart twist. He knows she knows that it's not going to work. He knows she knows that although her wings have protected her wards for so many decades, although she is capable of a lot of impossible tasks, although she can manipu-late one of the most powerful things in the world like time, her beak can't beat metal. But she keeps trying. She keeps trying as if she tries a little longer or a bit harder, it's going to work, her girl is going to be safe. She keeps trying although there is no light at the end of this very dark tunnel.

'Alma, Alma.' Her brother sighs, his eyes fix on her. 'We both know you are cleverer than that.'

Miss Peregrine screeches at him. But instead of stepping back, he steps forward.

'I'm the only one who knows where the key is.' He spreads his hands like he is waiting for her to hug him. 'Shall we... make a deal or something?'

Emma shakes her head and knocks at the glass crazily. It's not hard to guess what Miss Peregrine is going to do. Jake can see how desperately Emma tries to stop Miss Peregrine from saving her. Somehow he can tell that the girl wants to die rather than seeing her foster mother give herself to the devil. But Miss Peregrine is always Miss Peregrine. She is not just the fiercest warrior but the wisest one as well and the wise warriors always know when to bow to their enemy, no matter if they are willing to do so or not.

Miss Peregrine's eyes turn from the lock to her brother. Apparently, she doesn't want to look at her girl. For a split second, Jake thinks he sees fear in her sharp eyes.

Genuine fear.

Suddenly, he feels like he is about to throw up. _Did Miss P hear what her brother and those lunatic scientists planned to do to her? Was she in that room?_

Jake doesn't know the exact answer, of course, but he can feel it from her move. She must have heard it. She must have heard that what is waiting for her if she surrenders is... the slow death. No, not death. But worse. Torture. What is waiting for her is the painful torture that will not allow her to die. He wants to stop her, but at the same time, it's Emma as well. He doesn't want to lose Miss P, but he also doesn't want to lose Emma.

But what can he do?

Shouting from here and becoming another hostage?

He knows it's all done. Interrupting them now is no use. Miss P's brother would only get some more toys to hurt his sister. Still he cannot just climb back and leave Miss P and Emma here, helpless in the hands of that sadistic man.

 _What can I do?_

But before he can make up his mind, someone has already made her decision.

Miss Peregrine has turned back into a woman.

* * *

I know. I leave you there again. But the next chapter the point of view is gonna change to Miss P's so I think it better stops here. Share me your opinions would you? I really need something or someone to boost myself up now. It's like the whole world has gone crazier when you have just entered the working life.


	18. Chapter 18

Author Note: Hi.

I have no other excuses than I don't have time recently. As I've told you already, I'm working now. But nothing can stop me from finishing this story, I promise you.

Thank you as always for all your support and sorry again that I have kept you waiting for so long. But please understand that I don't want to ruin it, trying to finish it in a few hours and throwing whatever I have written here like it's nothing. I want it to be as perfect as I can reach, so it takes time and time is what I don't really have now.

Anyway, I'm so thankful for your comments for they are what encourage me. They make me know that someone out there is still waiting, and it's my responsibility to keep writing to make them happy as well as to make myself happy.

For StayPeculiar, thank you so much that you're always here. The last chapter really makes me claustrophobic, indeed. I don't really like an air vent but it fits the tone of this chapter, so I decided to send Jake there. Thank you again for everything.

For Sarah1224, sorry that I didn't update soon, but yes, here you are, the next chapter. I can't promise how long you have to wait for the next one but one thing I'm certain is that I will complete this story for sure. Thank you.

For Selene, thank you so much for your comment and yes, this one is about Miss P herself. I love maternal figures in books and movies and that is why I love Miss P so much. Such a shame that the movie doesn't capture much about this side of her. I hope to see her more, to know her more. That's why I come up with these fictions. Anyway, believe me there are so many other fictions here that can capture this side of her very well as well. Many authors here are so talented and thanks to them for being my inspiration. And yes, sorry for the suspense and I think I have to sorry in advance as well (you'll see). Thank you very much.

For Guest or another StayPeculiar (Is it the same StayPeculiar with the one above? I'm sorry I'm not quite sure) who suggests I do Caul, Barron, Myron chapter, I'm really interested in this idea and have tried to work it out since like the second chapter of this story. However, I think it's so hard for one of the very strong elements I give Caul and Myron is being mysterious and unpredictable. So I've found out that I'll lose that strong element if I come up with such chapters. Anyway, I'm still trying to work it out and we will see whether it is possible to have some chapters for them. Thank you so much for the suggestion and your comment.

For Beautiful Ideas, thank you so much for your comment. I enjoy reading it so much. I'm so glad and grateful that you have read all of my works. I promise I'll continue writing this.

For your beautiful ideas, the only thing I can tell you is we do share some similar ideas. But to save you from any spoilers, I will not tell you which ideas we have in common. Sorry for that. And no, they are not crappy at all, dear. Believe me they are definitely not. Thank you again bunnycake. Can't believe I have a fan now, lol. Thank you.

For this StayPeculiar who wants me to do the flashback of Miss P's past, your wish has come true. The worse the situation is, the more the past comes back. I really want to know more about the Benthams as well. Hope Ransom comes up with some more about what happened between them in the second series.

For Ash Wave, thank you so and so much for your support. You are truly the one who keeps boosting me, kind of reminding me that someone is waiting. Thank you for all of your ideas and I'll try to see if I can include some in this story. I don't really know how many chapters left for I have just a loose plot, but when I write, details come up and then it makes my plot unintentionally longer. So sorry that I cannot answer this question. Sorry for keeping you waiting as well. But I really do try my best to finish it as fast as possible. For my most fav. character, of course, isn't it obvious enough, lol? It's Miss P for sure. I love her so much. She is the first character who inspires me to write a fanfic.

For Ifollowmyhart, thank you so much for your idea again and also, thanks for your kind support. I may have to say sorry in advance though for after you finish this, it will be a long agony again before the next chapter is published. But I will try to finish it as soon as I can. Thank you.

For Harpyl, thank you and yeah, this chapter has made me claustrophobic a bit as well. I love writing Caul, especially when he does something extremely opposite from what he should have done like smiling when being insulted. It's fun writing him. Glad to know that he has got himself a fan. Thank you so much.

And for the latest StayPeculiar, I have no words to describe my feeling when I read your comment. Thank you so much. You make an amateur writer like me a lot more confident that I can do something big as well and by big, I don't mean being famous but being someone who can make others happy. But it's not just me who brings myself this far. It's you, it's everyone here, it's my friends as well so I think I need to be the one who thanks you, all of you. Thank you. And my most fav. book? Umm…that's hard for I like Hollow City as well but since Miss P is my most fav. character and she isn't there, I say it's the third one, Library of Soul. I think I've learned a lot about another side of each character in this book like Miss P's weak side, her past, and I really love the bond between children in this book as well.

And now a special thanks as always to Yuna McHill, my dearest sister here. We always help each other continue on this path, sharing some difficulties and experiences. I have to make it clear that this chapter hasn't been beta-read by her yet so if there are any grammatical errors or word choices or other errors, it is all my fault, not hers.

Okay now, I hope you're going to like this chapter but the thing is **I'm not sure whether it is too violent so I have to warn you first that it might be M. There is no sexual violent though but since I'm not sure about the rate, let's play safe first.** That's all.

And now, OMB I long to say this word, ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XVIII

She thinks she hears her bones crack.

Does it hurt? She doesn't know for sure because her body has past the point of feeling anything. Transforming back and forth kills her at first but now, she has just been overkilled until she feels immortal enough to ignore the _slight_ pain that cannot be compared to the mental one she is experiencing.

Her dear children have to face this because of her.

Yes, Alma knows exactly that even without her, they would still be captured but at least, she is quite certain that they would not end up being tortured like this. They might….pass on a bit more peacefully. A bit more…quickly.

 _So it is all my fault. Everything is all my fault._

She absolutely has no idea how her swollen feet can still bear her weight. She doesn't even know how she can force herself to step forward. All she can feel now is hatred and pain in her heart. And what is that? Another feeling. Buried deep in the corner of her pumping flesh but screaming so loud to be accepted.

 _Disappointment_.

Yes, it is disappointment that is eating her inside out, stabbing her soul again and again. To see someone you know goes mad is horrible enough. But to see someone whom you once loved so much turns evil is beyond any explicable feelings. It is not pain that is slicing her heart into pieces. But disappointment. She is disappointed that someone whom she calls brother can do this to her, can do this to those she love.

'We want to bring them home.'

'But father—'

'Silence!'

Alma had never been told off like this before. Since she was the only daughter he had, her father always spoke to her gently and sweetly, but, obviously, not today.

'We don't care what on earth you try to talk us into. We don't buy it. They have spent a year or two in that whatever loop thing you told us, but for what? They are still the same. My eldest boy and youngest girl still turn into a bird. Much more quickly, I must say. They are not getting _better_ at all!'

'Mister Bentham,' Miss Avocet was calm as always, 'I'm afraid I have told you already that these peculiarities your children possess are not the disease or some horrible illness. It's more like a gift, I would say. And the purpose I want to keep them in the loop is not to _cure_ them, but to teach them to live with their power safely and understand it thoroughly so that they wouldn't hurt themselves or others.'

'Well, if that is your _purpose,_ I want them back. I don't want them to stay in the place where every freak gather to celebrate only God knows what they can do.'

'Father—'

'I thought I told you to be quiet, Alma.'

'But you must listen!' Alma fought back. 'We belong there. We are peculiars.'

'You are _not_! I don't care what all of you can do. I don't care that you can turn to a bird in just a second and have some mighty power to control time. I _don't_ _care_!'

Her mother touched her father gently to calm him down but it was no use.

'You and your brothers come home today, Alma. And tomorrow…tomorrow we will talk about your marriage.'

'Father!'

Alma can still remember the look in her father's eyes at that moment. It is what haunts her in her dream for many years after that. That sweet and kind father she used to know was gone and was replaced by someone so mean, so angry whom she felt like she barely knew. She couldn't stand a second looking into his eyes. She couldn't stand a second experiencing how her hero turned to be someone who could scare her. She couldn't stand a second longer sitting there.

So she ran away. She didn't know what happened next in that café for as soon as she was certain no one could see her, she transformed. She wanted to fly far far away to the sea, to the cliff, to the place where she could be alone and cried herself out until she had no tears left.

It appeared that she was not the only one who ran away on that day.

When Alma came back to her house, a few days after she had flown around London, trying to sort this problem out but to no avail, she found out from her mother that both of her brothers had left. The good news was that her so-called fiancé was gone as well, still she was quite worried about her siblings.

They were gone for good. At least for more than a year.

It was the downfall of the Benthams. Her father barely left a study room and her mother cried all day, looking out of the window, waiting for her boys to come back. But they never heard from them again.

Until one morning in the middle of one very harsh winter. Alma can still remember that day was so cold, even in her own room. Inches of snow covered every street and the sky was quite dim and gray. Most people hid behind their doors before their fireplace, enjoying the warm fire and hot tea.

However, on the almost empty street, from her window, Alma could see a paper boy carrying a pile of papers, waving one above his head. As she opened her window a bit to fill her lungs with some sharp cold air, she could hear him shouting at the top of his lungs, trying to sell the paper.

It seemed like there was the very large explosion of some crazy experiment in Siberia which sounded quite serious, killing a dozen of scientists. At first, Alma didn't really care much about the news. She had her own misery to mourn and there was no space left in her mind to care for others'. At least, that was what she thought until two policemen came to her door.

Silently leaving her room, Alma walked down the corridor and took a peek from the stairs. Her parents were at the porch themselves, thinking it might be their sons as always when they heard the doorbell ring. But Alma knew best. It wasn't.

The policemen seemed so pale from the cold outside. As soon as the door opened, Alma could see that both of them almost jumped into the house but were stopped by some manner or, perhaps, the cold itself first. Her parents seemed reluctant a bit, not sure whether they brought them good or bad news. Her father squeezed her mother's hand, not just to calm her down, but to calm himself as well.

Although the whole house was still depressed, the two policemen were warmly invited to the parlour and were offered a cup of hot tea. With something warm in their hands, they seemed a bit better. Yet Alma is frightened. If they were better, it meant they were ready to continue their duty. In this case, she was certain it was regarding the lost of her brothers.

Her parents seemed to sense that as well as they straightened themselves up and held each other's hand more firmly. When the policeman on the right cleared his throat and slowly placed his cup on a table, Alma braced herself tightly as well.

'Mister and Misses Bentham, we apologize for a sudden visit but it is quite urgent.' He bit his lips and Alma became more certain that whatever he was about to tell them was not a good news.

'Have you heard about the…experiment in Siberia yet?' The second policeman spoke up. Yes, her father and mother still remained confused for they had not heard what Alma had this morning but Alma, now, had passed the point of being confused already. Fortunately, she wasn't standing, otherwise, she might have broken her neck, falling down the staircase.

She cannot remember exactly when it comes to this part. All she sees in her head is just something blurred, something that happened so fast like a train at its highest speed moving past her. She doesn't know how her parents reacted to what came next when the policemen told them that their sons were instantly killed in the explosion. She doesn't know how she brought herself back to her room. It was like her life at that time was missing. As if she didn't exist. As if there were no Alma Lefay Bentham for a while.

She cannot recall how long she had been being like that. A few hours? A day? A week? A month? Or even a year? The whole house was silent or, perhaps, it was her who refused to hear anything. To know anything. To talk. To eat. Yes, they were not quite good to her. Yes, they always hurt her. But no matter what, she still saw them as her brothers. She still saw them as her family. And she wished with all her heart that they were going to come back.

But she shouldn't have.

She realized it was the wish she shouldn't have asked for the night when she woke up from her trance.

It was in winter again, a very harsh one like that day when the policemen had come. It might be a few days after or a year, Alma didn't know. But one thing she knew for sure was that she came back to reality right at the moment when she heard her mother's scream.

Her mother had never been afraid of rats, cockroaches, or anythings before. Besides, the Benthams' maids had never allowed any little creatures to wander around the house. Actually, Alma still wonders until this day how she could tell that it was her mother's scream when she had never heard her mother scream before. But she was certain. And she climbed out of her bed at once to see what happened.

It was the same spot she was when she eavesdropped the two policemen and her parents the last time she came out of her room. Only this time, it wasn't the policemen that she was looking at but her father, dangling above the floor, blood gushing out from the hole in his chest as if there were some invisible knife stabbing him.

But it was not a knife.

Of course, Alma couldn't see it. But she could see its shadow, the dark long big blackness across the room. It was like the shadow of an octopus, only the octopus didn't have legs and arms like humans. She had no idea who was the owner of this shadow, yet it was not hard to tell that this creature was inhumane and very dangerous. Then she heard a throb, and on the floor lay her father still, his eyes widened lifelessly to the emptiness above.

'No!' Her mother cried and struggled to run to her father, but a strong hand was gripping her arm, not allowing her to move anywhere.

Alma's eyes moved up from her father's body to an intruder who stood behind her mother. She expected to see a stranger who was, perhaps, blind in one eye and had a big scar across his face, wearing something dirty. Instead, the man she was looking at was everything opposite from what she had thought. Not only was he not blind nor had a scar, he was also in the best suit with shiny shoes. And more importantly, he was not a stranger at all.

'Jack?'

'Run, Alma!' Her mother shrieked when she saw her. But Alma didn't really move. She didn't quite understand what happened here.

'Hello, Alma.' Jack greeted her. 'Long time no see.'

And she had just noticed that his eyes were white. As white as the snow. What had he done? What happened to him?

'Run!' Her mother screamed.

'It was all your fault, Alma.' Jack smiled coldly. 'If you did not exist, if you were not so special, if you had not been born, everyone would have seen me. Everyone would have loved me. _They_ would have loved me.'

Alma shook her head.

'And they wouldn't have to end up…like this.'

BANG!

Her mother fell to the floor, her eyes still looking at her. Alma couldn't believe this really happened. She turned to look at her brother, her eyes asking him whether this was a joke or something because it wasn't funny at all.

But she knew it wasn't. She knew when her brother lifted his gun up, the gun he used to shot his own mother, and pointed it at her.

She didn't move. This wasn't real. This must have been a dream, a nightmare. She was about to wake up.

BANG!

It hurt.

She never knew before that being shot was so painful. She touched her right arm and her fingers could feel some warm liquid zipping out of her wound.

'Don't touch her, Jack!'

It was her mother. She tried to save Alma even in the last moment of her own life. She pulled his hand and that was why he missed his target. Otherwise, it must have been Alma's heart or head that got a bullet.

'Run, Alma! Run!'

BANG BANG BANG

And that was it.

Her mother was gone. For good. And this wasn't a dream anymore.

So Alma ran.

She didn't know why she ran but it was the last thing her mother told her to do, so she did. She ran back to her room and locked the door.

'Alma, Alma.' He sang. He sang like he did in the old days. 'Come and play.'

'Isn't this fun?' His footsteps were getting closer. 'Seeing those who _cherish_ you die one by one.'

Alma looked around. What was she going to do? Praying?

'I'm going to kill everyone you love, Alma.' He came closer.

'And you? You are going to be the very last one who is going to face the most painful death, my dear.'

She heard him stopped in front of her room.

'Come out.'

She shook her head. That was the last thing she was going to do, opening the door.

'Come out, Alma, or I will let my friends break in.'

She looked at the window. Could she make it? Could she beat him?

'Alma, I warn you. They were quite…aggressive.'

She had to. It was the last way. She must try.

'ALMA!'

And that was the last thing she heard as she flew away from what used to be her home.

Yes, it is disappointment indeed that keeps gnawing her soul. It is disappointment indeed that forces her to love others more than her own brothers. They don't need to be protected. But there are a lot of peculiars and innocent lives out there who needs to be looked after. Who needs a safe place at a safe time to just live their lives. This, that is why she chooses to walk on this path. It's not just that she can do it or wants to do it, but it is what she must do. To make up for what her brothers have done. To fulfill the hole they have dug. To prevent them from hurting another soul.

'Let her go.'

This is not a pleading.

This is more like a warning.

She has no idea where her wit has gone. She should have known she is not in the position to give an order but this is too much. This has gone too far. Too far for her to remain calm and prudent as always.

He smiles.

Jack smiles and she swears his smile is what she hates most. It's disgusting. It's vividly lifeless. Like a smile of a corpse who wakes up at night and dances on his grave to haunt people. It's creepy.

'Of course, dear. Of course.' He tilts his head and slowly steps towards her.

Then,

He brings out a gun.

* * *

Okay, please don't kill me I know the ending is pretty much a...cliffhanger and I don't have any excuses except I want to end it like that. Tell me what do you think, okay? Will look forward to hearing from you. Thank youuuu;)


	19. Chapter 19

Author Note: Hello. Sorry that I've disappeared for so long again.

But please know that I have tried my best to finish this story although my life now is super busy even than before.

As always, thank you for all of the readers who are still be here despite my discontinuity.

For Ash Wave, thank you so much that no matter what you're still here with me. Your ideas are gorgeous and I do try to add something in my plot. My least fav. character, ummm…., woah, I don't think I have it here. I love them all, tbh. Thank you so much again.

For StayPeculiar, it's me who should thank you so much for talking to me, lol. And it's okay to make a lot comments because I understand that sometimes we just want to talk more. I'm totally okay with that, for at least, it increases my reviews, lol. Kidding but it's still true, isn't it? Feel free to do what you want. I'm okay with everything.

For Selene, I'm a big fan of maternal figures as well. And it's not weird, honey. I mean you have no idea how crazy I am when I found such a character. And thank you for your kind words.

For Harpyl, I don't wanna spoil you but this one is the flashback as well so enjoy! And thank you so much for loving this story.

For Ifollowmyhart, thank you and sorry that this time it takes me like so many weeks to update. Thank you.

Okay, so now, I have to go back to work again, so I'll just let you go here. Hope you like this.

Thank you all of you.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter XIX

'It's a lovely day, Jack. A very lovely day, right, Myron?' Little Alma danced around a lake, not quite far from her home.

It was during very late winter, and spring was coming. Still the water in the lake was partially frozen and was too cold to swim.

Alma jumped and suddenly, she turned into a bird, a little peregrine falcon. She was just five but she was able to master this since she was only four. Her parents were, of course, quite shocked when in one fine morning, their daughter came down the stairs, calling them to watch her do something magical and suddenly, decided to jump before she reached the last step. But instead of having her chin stitched, she flew. She flew around the hall and screeched happily. Then she did the summersault and turned back to be their Little Alma Bentham again.

'Isn't that amazing, mother?'

She loved to turn back and forth, a girl and a bird, and although her parents still hesitated whether to cherish it or not, her brother had made a decision that this was annoying.

'Look, Jack, I can fly.'

The most annoying part for Jack was when she giggled silily while flying and dancing around him. He always called her a freak, but deep down, deep down he knew that he himself desired to be…different…to be…extraordinary like her. But he wasn't. He was just an ordinary boy, a simple one, and in his opinion, ordinariness meant boring.

'Stop doing that, Alma.' He turned away and Myron followed him. At least, he still had Myron. At least, Myron was one thing Alma couldn't steal from him.

'Why, Jack? Isn't it amazing? Isn't it amazing, Myron?'

She didn't stop. And Jack hated it. He hated it when his sister didn't listen to him, when she insisted to show off no matter how irritated he was.

'I said stop doing that!'

And unintentionally, he pushed her. He thought the snow was soft enough so she wouldn't get hurt but suddenly, he realized he was wrong.

It wasn't the snow that Little Alma fell into, it was the lake.

It turned out he pushed his sister out of a little cliff into the freezing lake behind.

'Alma!' He called her, his heart quickened. 'Alma, hold on!'

He slid down the hill and ran to his sister, shouting her name repeatedly.

'Alma!'

He was about to pull off his shoes. So did Myron although the boy didn't really know how to swim. But then something stopped him. A voice inside his head.

 _If she were gone, wouldn't you get everything back? Your parents' love. Your attention. Everything._

It was just a second. It took only a second. He stopped dead, standing still with his bare feet on the snow. It was just a step forward to help his sister or a step backward to leave her there.

'Jack, what are you doing?' Myron shook him. 'She is drowning, Jack!'

'Jack!' She was calling him. For help. Did she really think he was going to help her?

 _You would get everything back. You would have everything. Again. Everything._

'Jack!'

But he couldn't do it.

He just couldn't ignore her.

She was drowning. And no matter what, no matter how much he hated her, he had to help her.

'No!' He screamed, telling the voice inside his head, and then plunged into the lake. The water was indeed freezing. It bit his whole body with its sharp fangs. But he kept swimming. Swimming to the girl whom he called a sister. To the girl he hated.

He shouldn't have done so.

That night, when he carried Alma back to their villa, his parents went crazy seeing their _little girl._ Every maid ran around, fetching towels, blankets, warm clothes, warm food for Little Alma. No one seems to notice that he himself was soaked from top to toe as well. When they were confident that their daughter was taken care of well enough, they, then, turned to him. For a split second, he was so glad. He thought they would treat him the same way they treated Alma, asking so many questions with concern while holding his hands.

But no.

His father sat down opposite to him after he had already changed. Quite far, actually. To far to hold his hands. His mother, a bit near, but still too far to touch him as well. Every gesture, every conversation, everything here were down to only one reason; he was a man and a man needed to be strong. A man wasn't supposed to be sentimental or weak. A man didn't need to be pampered.

'What happened?' His father asked.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure what he should reply. Should he tell them the truth? Or if he lied, would Alma tell them about what had happened?

His mother didn't really help. She sat still, her hands on her lap. Myron was there as well, sitting on another couch besides him. But he didn't help either.

'What happened, Jack? Myron?' His father repeated the question, looking at his sons. There was the edge of intolerance in his voice that warned Jack to answer him as quickly as possible. He was about to open his mouth, when Myron cut in.

'It was an accident, father.'

His father looked at Myron. His eyes questioned him.

'An accident?'

'Right, Jack?' Myron smiled dryly at his brother. Yes, he was trying to help, but it made things worse. His father could always tell when they were lying.

'Fine.' His father says. 'Myron get out. I will hear this accident from Jack first and after this I will hear it from you.'

Myron's face went pale. He began to panic now, didn't know what to do. But Jack knew. Jack knew exactly what to do. It ended. It was over.

'I didn't mean it, father.' He forced himself to confess. 'I didn't mean to push her.'

And that was the last straw.

That night was the night that changed everything. That night was the night that little Jack died, a weak Jack, an ordinary Jack. After the confession, after everything he had done to save that stupid girl's life, all he got was his father's belt sinking into his flesh exactly 21 times. His father thought it was 20, but he knew better. He counted every single time the leather cut his skin and he remembered every detail of pain it caused. It took only 21 times of belt hitting, just 21 times to create a new him. A new Jack who would not be weak again. A new Jack who would be extraordinary. A new Jack who wished he hadn't helped that bloody girl out of the freezing lake. A new Jack who was, perhaps, a monster.

After the punishment, he ran to his room at once. He met Alma in the corridor and although she called him, he didn't stop. He felt like he desperately wanted to squeeze her little neck and choke the life out of her and the feeling was so strong that it was, perhaps, the hardest emotion he had ever suppressed. But how could he? She could fly and she would get away so easily, flying to her father at once.

He was definitely in the depths of despair.

No one could help him.

No once could reach him.

Except he himself.

Late late that night when he sat alone on the rooftop, letting sharp wind cut his cheeks. He felt something strange inside his chest. Something so strange that he thought it could lift him up, that he thought it could make him…fly.

And fly he did.

He knew that it was the most stupid idea to jump off the roof, but he felt he could do it.

He felt he could be like her. No. Be better than her.

When his body fell, he thought this was death. But before his head hit the ground, he heard a screech and suddenly, he soared higher and higher as if he could touch the moon.

And he knew. He knew that now he could beat her.

Now she was nothing.

Now it was his turn.

* * *

Yes, now, it is his turn.

Although she doubts whether she has had or will have her turn in this crazy _game_ of her brother, she cannot refuse that now, he surely has an upper hand.

He has a gun.

And what does she have again?

Nothing.

Just her bruises, cuts, and throbbing body.

 _Brilliant._

'Seems like finally you have learned where your position is in this place of mine, right, Alma?'

Jack's smile goes crazy from ear to ear. He looks like a funny clown, a funny and creepy clown in a circus or a fair. Alma never likes a clown. But she is confident that she is afraid of that red-nosed monster less than her own white-eyed brother now. At least, those clowns don't have a gun, especially the one that is pointing at her.

'Well, well,' he continues, 'doesn't this ring a bell or something? Is it a dream? Or a dream in a dream? What do you say, Alma?'

Alma doesn't want to do this but she can't help looking at the empty space near her brother. Her mother used to be there. In her last moment, she used to be there. Beside him. Trying to help her.

'Unfortunately, our beloved mother isn't here to save you this time.' He yawns as if this were nothing. All of this. Mother's death. Her injury. This crazy experiment and foul place. The fact that he is killing and torturing children and women.

But no matter what he is right.

She is alone.

Around her are no one but his minions. And the only thin line that stops them from devouring her is no one but him.

'Jack,' Alma begins, 'let her go. Let them go and I'll do anything you want.'

She tries to look at him in the eyes, a pair of eyes that, strangely, seem both familiar and unfamiliar to her at the same time. What stands before her is just a shell. A shell of a brother she used to know. Yes, he has past the point of being a Hollow, but somehow, he's still hollow, even hollower than the Hollows themselves, perhaps. He has no feeling but rage which has been hidden very well under his calmness. It drives him until there's no part of human left in him. If she were able to travel back in time, traveling back, not just to 24 hours ago, but to the time when it wasn't too late to change his mind, she would do _anything_ to prevent him from turning into someone like this. She would do _anything_ to win her brothers back, to save them from this miserable fate they are facing.

'It doesn't have to end like this.'

Jack chuckles and walks a bit closer to her, his eyes fix on hers as well.

'Yes, Alma, it doesn't have to end like this.' He repeats her words, his finger places on the trigger.

'But…,' he comes closer with a wider and crazier smile, 'I'm afraid that depends on you.'

Then, he hands her the gun.

* * *

Yeah, you didn't read it wrong. He did hand her a gun. Sorry again for the cliffhanger. I just feel like I really wanna end here, no other reasons. :) We will see why soon.


	20. Chapter 20

Author Note: Hi everyone.

Yes, I have disappeared for so long again and sorry for that. Now it is not just about time but since there are so many details going on now, it's quite hard to finish a chapter. Also, I don't want to force myself to write if I don't feel inspired, so sorry again.

Anyway, thanks to the new set of Eva's photos and my new colleague whom I have just found out that she loves Eva as well. And also, thanks to NejHina100 who PM me about Taylor's music video which really encourages me a lot to finish this chapter. Not that I take something from that mv though, fyi :)

As always thank you for every comment and every reader that used to be here, is still here, or will be here soon. I'm so grateful you're with me on this journey.

For Abiahil, I have checked that out already and it's so cool. Thank you for your effort in trying to post the link and yes, we cannot post the link here, I used to try once. It's not your computer's fault. Thank you so much for your comment and that really makes my day. I know a lot of MPHFPC characters out there are a bit adjusted but I think it might be because those authors might want to try something new. Anyway, it depends on us, actually, to choose to read what we like. I rarely read the new interpretation of characters as well, so I can relate to you. Thanks again for the video. It did inspire me a lot.

For StayPeculiar, thank you for your comment and my dear, I know exactly what you mean. I know that so many people believe that no one is completely good or bad but for me, I believe that they can. But this doesn't mean that they were also bad in the past or will be bad in the future. I believe we all can change our mind from bad to good, and yes, from good to bad. It's sad that someone might not be able to change it in time. And thank you for rereading this story. I can't believe you like it this much. And yes, dear, it refers to that moment in Do you still love me? For Raymond flashback, we will see. If I can, I will. What I can tell you now is that I thought about it once but I didn't put it there in the chapter that Alma was about to meet him. They used to go out together like drinking tea or walking around but Alma hated it. It was kind of a deleted scene, actually, lol :) Glad to hear that my flash back can give you an answer as well. And yes, PLOT TWIST indeed but I doubt Miss P will have an upper hand. And of course, if I could, I want to have Miss P's peculiarity. Apart from Miss P I think I want to be Millard like not permanently. I just want to know what others speak of me when I'm not there :) Thanks for asking. So happy talking to you about this.

For Harpyl, thank you for your comment and yes, he once was just a boy. Sorry for the confusing ending but you will see soon why he did that. Caul, despite being super bad-ass here, is quite a genius in hurting his sister. He will not let this chance go that easily, I promise.

For Ash Wave, thank you so much for your kind words. Miss P being rude sounds like a great idea but I doubt she can do that as long as her children are still in his hand. Anyway, you will see soon, that's all I can tell you now. :)

For Hayoen, thank you so much for reading this and yes, a cliffhanger :) sorry for that. Hmm, your theory is interesting. Let's see shall we? And yes, when I wrote that I thought of ROG as well and I do know Jack's sister. Thanks again and I'm so happy to hear that.

For Selene, thank you and sorry at the same time. Good to hear that those stories out there can make you happy. What can I say but just go for it if you want to write something. I struggled with myself for like so many years and I'm so much happier when I decide to write and share what I write to others. Read my first work here and you will have courage to post it dear. My first work are super super simple and short and full of grammatical errors. Even now there are a lot grammatical errors. Give it a try soon and let me know. I'll surely be there to check it out.

And for Yuna, my sis - Thank you my dear that you are always with me in this journey. Love ya.

Okay, now I'll make it short. Please let me know what you think? And also I have one question that I would like to ask and if you're interested, you could share it in the comment.

Since we know that in the last chapter, Caul gave his sister a gun, do you think why he did that?

I have a plot already but since there are a few theories and guesses in the comments I'm so interested to hear more. In exchange, if someone gets it right, I will publish a sneak peek by 14 Oct, I promise :)

Thank you and looking forward to hear from you.

* * *

Chapter XX

'Right on time.'

She took her pipe out of her mouth and reached her right hand to him. Her dark blue nails were long and they instantly reminded him of a talon that belonged to those birds of prey, her eyes sharp as if they were a falcon's eyes, not human's. Her hair was dark blue and it was done up so sophisticatedly that he had to look twice despite being a boy.

'Miss Peregrine's delighted to meet you.'

Her smile was so warm and promising. Her voice was strong but kind. Miss Peregrine whom he had heard of from his Grandpa couldn't compare to the one whom he was looking at now. Well, at least he thought she would have been a bit…older. Like with white hair and cane. But this was totally different from what he had expected.

He shook her hand. Soft. Warm. And Firm. He lost his voice. It was so difficult to explain how he felt, meeting his Grandpa's heroine for the first time.

'Look at you.' She said. Her eyes glistened with real happiness, the kind of happiness that parents always wear.

'The last time dear Abe sent me a photograph you were just a tiny tot.'

She ended her sentence with that smile again that made he turned dumb. Thinking about that, he must have looked so funny, standing on the porch, didn't know exactly what to say or what to do.

'Don't just stand there. Come in. Your tea's getting cold.'

And that is the beginning of everything, that day, the day Miss Peregrine invited him into her house. She has given him love, she has given him home, and she has given him friends. Not just normal friends, but friends that are more like brothers and sisters. Yes, Enoch might used to be…an exception. But now, he will not hesitate to call him bro if he meets the dead riser again.

Yes, our memory can be quite tricky.

There are so many things we cannot remember, so many things we completely forget. But at the same time, there are things we can remember very well as if they just happened. The picture, the colour, the sound, the smell, the feeling are so fresh no matter how long time has passed. They are just cannot be erased from our mind.

And this is one of that kind of memory.

The one that is still vivid in his mind.

Admittedly, he has just met Miss P and his friends but what he is facing now makes he feels like he has met them so many years ago. The bright day seems to be left so far behind as if it had been already a decade from the day he entered Miss Peregrine's loop for the first time. So many memories have been mixed up because he was quite new and confused back then. He cannot remember how exactly he felt when he saw Olive lit a fire or how he reacted when he met Millard for the first time in a carriage. But when it comes to the moment when that green door was opened by the headmistress, he can remember every single detail as if he were his iPhone, recording every second of that moment.

She is the proof that everything his Grandpa had told him was true.

Well, a few peculiar children are quite tangible but for some reasons, he doesn't think he would have been 100% certain if he hadn't met her.

'Wait. Wait. Watch out!'

'Shh you'll put her off!'

He can remember that feeling so well, the feeling when he saw Miss Peregrine strode towards that giant monster with hideous tentacles. It were like he fell off from a skyscraper or something.

But he trusted Emma.

At least, she was there before him and he was sure she loved Miss Peregrine with all her heart. She wouldn't have asked him to be quiet if it hadn't been for Miss P's sake.

Still it was hard to breathe.

He had just met this woman, yes, but since his Grandpa saw her as a mother, she quickly became someone whom he cared in a very short time. Of course, at that time he wouldn't go so far like seeing her as his second grandmother or mother. But he did see her as his family, as the one whom he admired and didn't want bad things to happened to.

So he tightened his fist, held his breath, and prayed so hard in his mind.

It was just a short moment. A very short moment. But he felt like it was so long. And although Emma seemed quite familiar to this, he could feel her body tensed up, he could feel how much she cared for her guardian. And why not. It was rather obvious that Miss Peregrine did lay her life on the line for her children. One tiny mistake was all it takes to meet gruesome death. And it is that moment when he realized how much Miss Peregrine loves her children. She might not have given birth to them but she definitely _is_ their mother. It was that moment that he begins to see her in the same way he thinks his Grandpa did. A guardian. A protector. A savior. A mother. An invincible heroine.

But he is wrong.

Yes, Miss Peregrine is a guardian. Yes, she is a protector, a savior, and one of the best mother one could have asked for. And obviously, she is also a true heroine. But…she isn't invincible.

Jake forgot this for a big while. Who would have thought that the woman who can turn into a bird, can look after over a dozen of children, can manipulate time and can slay a Hollow in one shot will be able to bleed too? It was the first drop of tear that he saw on her face on the day Barron came that reminded him that no matter what, she is still a human. And no matter how strong she seems to be, she also needs to be protected.

So that is what he is going to do.

He will try to protect her. And to do so he cannot just waste his time in an air vent. Thus since Miss P has made a decision to save him, he also makes a decision to save her. The last picture he saw is when his headmistress turned into a human again in front of her brother. Although he hated the satisfied look on the wight's face so bad and didn't want to leave them to him like this, he forced himself to leave.

Now, he is running through the dim corridor.

Every corner he turns, some wights might pop up with their gun and evil smile.

But he doesn't care.

That is what he wants to find most, at least, for now.

He needs a gun.

Although he doesn't know exactly how to shoot, it's the only choice left, especially when Olive hasn't finished with that door yet.

This place is so much bigger than the air vent he has just left but he still cannot breathe. Every step he takes, every second he spends, Miss Peregrine's and Emma's life are falling deeper in great danger.

That's why he needs a gun right now.

Yes.

It's the only thing that can help Miss P and Emma from afar.

Of course, there are so many possibilities that this crazy plan can go wrong, let alone so many obvious flaws, but when he stops and asks himself again and again what else he can do, there is no other answers.

So it has to be this.

It _has_ to be this.

He runs so fast, doesn't even care how loud his footsteps are. The only sound he hears now is a voice in his head screaming a list of horrible things that could happen.

No, he will not let that happen.

They _will_ be safe.

They _must_ be safe.

 _I will —_

'AAH!'

* * *

He rarely gets lost but this time he definitely does.

Enoch can remember the rusty red door here but thinking about it again, it might not be the same door for so many doors here are red and rusty.

He will never go anywhere if he keeps walking in circles like this. He needs to find the right way, the one that leads to Miss Peregrine and his friends.

But which way?

He looks around and finally, he just wants to cry.

It's hard to accept this feeling but he cannot refuse hot tears that he is trying to hold back. This is not the war he can fight, deep down he knows. But no matter what, he has to fight. The bet is too high to give up.

And also, he has already made a promise.

'Where should we go Victor?'

It was dark. And they were a few miles away from their sweet island. A 13-year-old strong boy and an 11-year-old dead riser who were in the middle of no where, surrounded by dark woods.

'Maybe, this way.' Victor held his hand and dragged him to somewhere.

He knew Victor didn't know the way as well but he trusted him. They were in this together and they had to get through it.

But then he changed his mind and he believed Victor had changed his as well when they heard that sound.

'Victor.' Enoch called his friend, stepping backwards a bit. 'Isn't that a howl?'

Victor didn't reply so Enoch knew the answer was _yes._ The next question was about to come up but it was answered by a nearer howl and then the sound of something moving not far from them.

'Victor.'

Victor crouched down and, fortunately, there was a big rock besides him. He lifted it up with one hand as if it were just a pebble. If anything came, he was ready to throw this at them.

'VICTOR!'

The first one jumped out of the darkness.

Its shadow told Enoch that it was a hound as tall as him. Victor threw a rock at it but he missed. Its leg was hurt though but not severe enough.

'RUN!' Victor screamed and then they both ran.

They could hear another running after, barking crazily at them. It would outrun them soon they knew, but they had no time to climb any trees so the only choice they had now was running as fast as they could.

'AAH!'

'ENOCH!'

Finally, the one that wasn't hurt could catch them and when it did, it sank its fangs in Enoch's arm.

'LET HIM GO!' Victor tried to opened its mouth but to no avail.

'Victor, WATCH OUT!' Enoch shouted when he saw the injured one behind Victor, ready to strike at him.

But it was too late, the hound had already jumped, its fangs ready to sink into Victor's throat.

'AAH!'

Enoch had never imagined that Victor's wail would sound so similar to a dog's wail. But when he opened his eyes again, Victor was still safe and sound.

It was a dog's wail, indeed. The hound was struggling with something on its face, something whose wings were flapping fiercely.

'Miss P!'

It was quite dark but the boys was certain that the bird was her. For one very obvious reason, no ordinary peregrine falcon would dove from the sky this low just to have a fight with these two big hounds.

Victor gathered himself back and tried to find some rocks or sticks to help Enoch. The hound had no sign to release the boy soon and it began to shake its head which surely wasn't a good thing. But before the strong boy could do something, his headmistress appeared and scratched the hound's eyes with her sharp talons. It worked. The hound opened his mouth and fell back, howling in pain.

'MISS P!'

The first hound came back and jumped at the bird. Her wing was in its mouth and it shook her like she was a loaf of meat. The boys could hear her screech but they had no idea what to do. In this darkness, weapons were hard to find so in the end, Victor decided to fight the dog with his bare hands. It was not that easy though, for when he stepped towards Miss P, another hound had recovered. And although it was almost blind, its nose was still working.

'NOO!' Victor caught the hound and threw it to the tree. This time it worked. The hound laid still, didn't rise up again.

Enoch found a stick and he didn't hesitate to help his headmistress. He hit the hound in the back of its head but it was no use. It was when his Miss P tried her best to peck its eyes that the hound let her go and then running away after Miss P screeching at it and scratching it furiously.

Since Enoch had come, he might have accepted that Miss P did care for him. But he had never seen her more than an ymbryne, a caretaker and a protector of peculiar children. In his eyes, she just did what she had to do, her duty. But that night changed the way he saw her.

Miss Peregrine didn't say a word since she transformed back, roughly dressed Enoch's wound and brought them to the ferry. The boys didn't know what to say as well so they just looked at the floor, repenting of what they had just done.

But the floor wasn't the only thing Enoch looked at. He didn't dare to look at his guardian's face but since her hands were on her lap, he didn't need much courage to looked at them.

They were dyed red.

There was no wound on them, yes, but there was, Enoch believed, a big one on her arm under her damp sleeve and it hadn't been taken cared of yet.

When they were home, Miss Peregrine asked Emma and Olive to take everyone upstairs. They were quite shocked from what they saw but they could sense that this wasn't negotiable.

It was a long night.

But all Enoch had to do was sitting on a couch, letting Miss P cleaning his wound properly.

Strangely, now he could see how serious his wound was but it was no longer painful. He turned numb when he looked at Miss Peregrine's arm. A drop of tear fell down from his eye, followed by another drop and another drop, but he didn't bother to wipe it out. Her wound seemed a lot more severe than his, but she didn't even look at it. Instead, she took care of his wound first and even gave him a painkiller after she was done with his arm.

Victor sat quietly beside him, looking at the carpet.

Now they knew it was time to be reprimanded and although they had just decided to run away from Cairnholm a few hours ago, they feared to their heart that Miss Peregrine would kicked them out of the house. But they deserved that, right? They deserved to be abandoned again because of what they had done.

'Are you hurt, Victor?'

That was when Enoch looked at her face for the first time in these few hours. Unintentionally, of course. That was not what he expected to hear from her, well, at least, not the first thing.

Victor might have been a bit surprised as well for he lost his voice for a good minute. The boys could tell their headmistress was still angry at them for although she asked them a question, she didn't look them in the eyes.

'Aren't you…,' Victor began, 'going to punish us?'

Enoch wasn't sure that was the proper question to ask but he died to know as well. Weren't she going to punish them?

That question caught her.

She stopped clearing a table and looked at both of them. Victor quickly looked at the floor, but Enoch forced himself to look back.

'Yes, you both are guilty.' Miss Peregrine spoke up after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. She stayed still, but Enoch could feel that she was trying her best not to shiver in front of them. Was she angry at them that much?

'But…'

Victor looked up again when he heard _but_. Enoch was even quite certain that the headmistress would say something like polite persons should know how to forgive. However, what came next was painful beyond any punishment they had undergone.

'If I have to blame someone for this, it is I, not you two.'

Miss Peregrine swallowed the lump in her throat but it kept coming back, Enoch could tell.

'That you two ran away means I didn't take care of you well enough. What I have done wasn't good enough to hold you back. So, actually, it is my fault.'

The boys just didn't know what to say. They were quite shocked when the first drop of tear fell down from those sharp green eyes. She looked away to hide it but it was too late.

'Tomorrow, I would write to Miss Avocet about finding a new home for you two. I will make sure that you will have the right to choose your own ymbryne and your new house.' She cleared her throat to make her voice even. 'So could you please at least stay here for a few hours? I promise I will write to her as soon as I can.'

Enoch looked at her.

He used to look at her for like who knew how many times but this time, the woman in front of him wasn't just a caretaker or his guardian anymore.

He saw a mother.

A mother whose heart was broken because she misunderstood that her boys hated her and this house.

He had never known what a mother should have been for his didn't deserve to be called one. But that night he finally realized what a true mother should be.

And since he found a true mother already, he made a decision at once that he wouldn't ever let her go.

'Please.' Enoch reached out his injured hand and grab hers. 'Please don't throw us out.'

'Yes, please Miss.' Victor begged.

'Please.' Enoch began to cry and he didn't care that he was crying. 'Please. We don't want to go anywhere else. We want to stay here. With you.'

It took the bird only a few seconds to kneeled down and hugged him and Victor. She could no longer hold her tears as well.

'Shh…it's alright. I won't do that, of course. It's alright.'

'I…I promise…I…I will not,' Enoch tried to speak through his tears, 'I will not do this again. I…I will protect you, Miss. I will not let you get hurt again.'

Yes.

That's the promise he gave her so many decades ago. Some of them he can keep it, but some he just cannot. Miss Peregrine loves them too much and from times to times, she gets hurt because of them, sometimes physically and sometimes mentally. Anyway, Enoch still tries his best to protect her or even to fix her. At least, if she inevitably has to get hurt, he will be there to make sure that she will come back to be the same Miss Peregrine he knows. And through all these years, Enoch can say that he is quite successful.

Quite successful until now.

 _I'm not going to back out. Never._

The dead riser heads up and takes a deep breath.

But the past that still echoes in his head has shut his perception down so when he turns around and about to pass a junction, he doesn't hear loud footsteps coming in his way.

'AAH!'

Someone runs into him and hits him so hard that he ends up on the floor. It must have been a wight. Enoch struggles to get to his neck, meaning to beat him before he can do any harm.

But when he drags that wight up, ready to punch his face, he has to stop himself at once for the person before him is not a wight.

'Jake.'

'Enoch.'

* * *

Yes, the cliffhanger is still there. Sorry for that. But anyway for someone who has missed the game mentioned in Author Note, I will post a sneak peek of what's going to happen to Miss P before 14 Oct if someone gets it right why Caul gave his sis a gun. Looking forward to hear from you about both the guess, if you're interested, and what you think about this chapter. Thank you :)


	21. Chapter 21

Author note: Hi

And terribly sorry that I cannot make this sooner. But I'm not sure how to judge your guesses last time, for some of them are quite close. So I think I'll just skip the sneak peek and provide you the whole chapter instead. And that's why I've just updated it today.

First of all, as always, thank you, thank you, and thank you that you're still here even though it's like 20 chapters already. I just don't want to wrap everything up so fast and end it like it's nothing. Every story of mine means a lot to me and I really want to try my best to come up with the best chapter I can write. So please forgive me if it takes me a few weeks or even a whole month to update.

Thanks, Ash Wave, for your lovely ideas and kind words. Yes, you're right, Caul really wants to see his sister getting weak. At first, I don't really like his character but I have to admit that now it's quite fun, writing him.

For StayPeculiar, thank you so much that you're still here with me in this very very long journey. I know you love flash backs, dear, and that's why I was 100% sure that you would love chapter 20. I hope the next book will show this side of her more. For your guesses, dear, your ideas are so fabulous that I really want to adjust mine a bit. I cannot say much but you're right about 'killing someone she cares about is what really would break Miss P more than anything'. And for your question, my favorite part from the movie is when we first met Miss P, like when she did the calculating thing about time, Jake's weight. Also, when she hit the hollow. I do love how calm she was. And the last one is when she held Victor. Kudo to Eva, her eyes can tell us everything in that scene, the feeling of guilt, loss, missing, love. But I do love that scene as well when the children are introduced. Your questions always make me happy, dear, so please ask if you'd like to :))

For Selene, thank you for your review and sorry that I made you cry. I'm so glad to hear that it is your favorite chapter. Please let me know once you have posted your story. I die to read it. Can't wait to read it :))

Thanks Harpyl for still being here with me. Your guesses sound so kind, lol. But yeah, we will see soon what he wants her to do. Thank you again.

For Guest who gave the first comment, thank you so much for your guesses. You almost hit it, actually. So let's see what is the answer, shall we? :)

And for Vizidoodle, thank you as always for your review and sorry that I've never replied you here before but usually I tend to reply those who have an account directly instead. But yeah, let's see, about your question. Will Jacob and Myron meet? They will for sure. But whether they are going to have a conversation or anything is another issue. For the idea of Jacob eavesdropping, we'll see soon, lol. Sorry if I cannot reply much for I just don't want to spoil you.

Okay, I'm gonna let you go now and let's see what you'll say after finishing this chapter. Thank you so much again.

ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XXI

Alma rarely hesitates.

She is trained to be decisive since the very beginning of her ymbryne journey. Making a right or the least wrong decision is what every ymbryne must do, especially when her children's and her own life are threatened.

Thus, for Alma Lefay Peregrine, it is very easy; everyone and everything that dare to threaten her children's life must disappear one way or another.

A hollow? Who cares, just kill it. A pub landlord? Well, this might not be right, but since he could bring danger to her wards, he needs to vanish from her loop as well, at least for a day.

It is not always easy, making up her mind. But at least, Alma can do it very quickly, even in just a second. She knows very well how valuable time is. The blink of an eye might turn the whole thing to beautiful happy ending or appalling tragedy. That is why time is always her priority, as crucial as her children for it can directly affect their lives.

But now, it seems like what she is doing is completely opposite from what she has been taught.

She is wasting her time.

'I'm afraid that depends on you.'

Alma has been looking at the gun before her for almost a minute already, a minute that Jack could have used that gun to blow Emma's head or even hers. She looked at it as if she never saw a gun before and then at her brother's face as if she didn't know him. Well, actually, she doesn't think she knows him at all.

'Go on.' Jack chuckles. 'What, my little bird, isn't this what you want?'

She can't read him. No matter how hard she tries she cannot read him. His smile, his eyes, his face, his gestures, they are all pretentious. They are not real. Or if they are, Alma believes they do not belong to normal people, but more like to those with some mental disorder who gets happier when seeing someone suffers from what they have done. And she has no idea how to read that kind of person, even that person used to be under the same roof with her for so many years.

'Go on.'

She has no choice, doesn't she?

What else can she do?

Running away? No way if her little ones are still here.

So Alma gradually reaches out her hand which is shaking uncontrollably from injury and, although she hates to admit this, from fear, to the only weapon that she is allowed to have now. She can see her brother's smile widens when her fingers are about to touch that metallic monster in his hand. _This is a trap._ She knows. She is certain. But she has to play his game. She has to be who he wants her to be no matter how stupid it seems. For her children. Only for her children.

The first touch makes her whole body shivers.

It is colder than she thought it was. As cold as a dead body. She reaches further to take it from his hand, feeling its coldness on her palm. It is still pointing at her like it were waiting to put a bullet in her chest. Just a split second and she could fall to her knees, bleeding to death.

Is she afraid?

So much.

But is her fear more important than her children's life?

 _Never_.

So she wraps her fingers around this deadly metal in front of her and pulls it from her brother's hand.

'BOO!'

Alma jumps.

For a second, she thought she was shot.

But when she hears her brother's historical laugh, she realises this is just a joke.

'Oh,' Jack pants, 'oh, give me a minute.'

He pretends that he is trying so hard to stop laughing but to no avail. The second burst of laugh escapes and he moves around a bit, putting on quite a show in this stage of his.

'Oh dear. Oh my dear.' He pats his chest, trying to stand straight again. 'You should have seen your face, Alma, I swear.'

Then the third burst of laugh but it is stopped by the sound of someone hitting the glass.

'Oh look.' Jack turns to look at the girl in the glass box, floating, not in the air as always, but in the water. 'I think she might need some air soon, my dear.'

He turns to his sister and speaks to her as if Emma were nothing.

'It would be so ironic if the air girl dies because she runs out of air, don't you think?'

Alma turns to look at her girl. She isn't quite sure whether what makes Emma's face look so pale; the fact that she is in the water, that she is getting cold, or that she is running out of air. But none of those reasons sounds good to her.

The bird slightly shakes her head and just that, Emma knows exactly what she is trying to say; save the air. The girl stops struggling and remains still again although Alma can tell from her face that she doesn't want to.

'Still her Mama's little bird, I can see.' Jack's eyes glistens. 'No matter how much she has grown up.'

Alma turns back to her brother. She takes a glimpse at the gun in his hand. If she had it, she would surely put a bullet into this man's head. It would hurt her so badly, would tear her soul into pieces to kill him but she would. She would for there is no other choice for her children and herself to survive this.

However, deep deep down, Alma knows she doubts she could do that. She cannot just kill him. She is not like him.

 _But do I have to be?_

'Well, the longer she stays there, the less her air is, so,' Jack grins and raises a gun up, 'shall we continue with our deal?'

The Bird frowns. Whatever deal he is about to come up with, she is certain it is not going to benefit her.

'No, Alma.' Jack interrupts her thought. And yes, he knows what she thinks. 'I'm sorry but this is more like your punishment, my dear, so this deal isn't going to benefit you for sure.'

He even uses the exact words she used in her head. There is no way she can hide anything from him. Well, but isn't that fair enough since she has just known him when he is already 8 while he has known her since the first day she was born.

'I am going to give you this gun, Alma.' He begins. As calmly as gentle waves washing ashore. 'What you need to know is,'

He pauses and looks at the evil thing in his hand with admiration.

'There is only one bullet here. Only one.' Then he gives her a smile, a very sweet smile that usually comes before a catastrophy.

'Of course, you might try to use it with your girl's box,' Jack waves the gun towards Emma, 'but please, at least, think about the size of the box. I know you're quite sharp Alma when it comes to shooting but, to be honest, no matter how sharp your eyes are, I think there's a great chance that you will end up hitting your sweet little girl somewhere instead.'

He is right. Alma knows that her shooting skill is quite exceptional since she has practiced it for almost a century, but with that box and so little space Emma has, she doubts she can avoid hurting her girl. Or although she really can, the shards might hurt her anyway. Being stabbed by a large piece of shard doesn't sound better than being shot at all.

'You're clever enough, I believe, my sweetie.' Jack adds. 'And for your information, in case your girl somehow miraculously survives this, I'll make sure she'll be drowned in the sea instead.'

 _So this choice has to be crossed off then._

'Well, or you might use it to shoot me,' out of sudden, Jack turns the gun in his hand to his own head. For a moment, Alma's heart drops. She doesn't know it does because she doesn't want him to die or because she really wants him to pull the trigger. But he does neither of that. He just points it there, enjoying its coldness on his temple.

'But one thing you should know is that I'm the only one who knows where the key is. Without me, you might have to spend a whole month or even a year to ransack this place and it might be to no avail.' He pulls the gun back and wields it like it were just a toy. 'I can't imagine how pitiful your girl's body will be.'

Alma tilts her head a bit. Yes, she believes he is the only one who knows where the key is, but she doesn't think she has to spend a whole year to search for it if she kills him. If he dies, there are going to be a lot of options coming up. Olive's fire is one of them if Emma can endure this long enough.

'Oh no, no, no.' Jack clicks his tongue. 'You naughty girl. You know what, Alma, I can see your little brain working so hard under your skull. But, my advice, don't waste your time. Do you really think my minions will let you go after I'm dead?'

Alma turns to see another wight in this room that she almost forgets he's there. Barron is smiling widely at her like a lunatic or an idiot.

'I'll make sure the girl will be dead before she even gets out of it.'

Alma sends him a dead glare. It never works with her brother but with Barron, she can see he flinches a bit. But that is no used. Even though he is really afraid of her, it doesn't mean that he cannot kill Emma. On the contrary, fear is one of the most powerful motivation that drives people to do scary things. She believes Barron will continue her brother's works for sure. And one of the most important work is to make sure that she will suffer as greatly as possible.

'See? Seems like this option doesn't really work, right?' Jack nods, answering his own question. 'And I warn you first, my dearest sis, if I survive, I will make sure all of your children get shot at the same place where I was, again and again. Every one of them. From the oldest. To the youngest.'

'Over my dead body!' Alma blurts out. And before she realises it, she has already taken a few steps forwards to her brother. Now her face is just a few inches from his.

Barron automatically steps back when the Bird strides at his master, but Jack doesn't move at all. His smile doesn't disappear as well. How can he knows that she will not slap him on his face? How can he be so sure that she will not gouge his eyes? How can he be so positive that she will not harm him, the one who has just threatened her children's life?

'Ah-oh, Mama bird is getting angry.' He even sings. Alma can't believe he even sings. Her brother has come further than she thought.

'So,' Jack leans forwards. His face is less than an inch from hers now. 'I will give you this gun. And I promise you, my dear, if you accomplish the task I am about to assign you, the girl will be saved. I will even let her go.'

Alma looks straight into his white eyes, doesn't even blink. She doesn't step back as well for there is nothing to lose now. She is standing before a man who longs to hurt her for over a century. So be it. Comes what may.

'What task?' She asks.

Jack licks his lips slowly before giving his sister an answer.

'Killing someone.'

'Who?'

'Her.'

And then Alma hears footsteps behind Jack's back. Looking over her brother's shoulder, the first person she sees is Barron. He has just come out from a cupboard in a corner of the room. But he isn't alone. He has brought someone with him. Someone whose hair is white with streaks of black.

Alma can feel Jack's hand grabs hers.

She can feel the coldness of the gun on her palm.

She can feel Jack's hand guide hers to the trigger.

She can feel him raise her hand up and adjust it until the gun is pointing at the target.

And when he steps back, all she has to do is pull the trigger.

But how could she?

'Alma?'

* * *

I know, our beloved cliffhanger again. Let's see whether this time you will get it right; who do you think 'she' is, the one Alma has to kill. Thank you so much for finishing this chapter. I'd love to hear from you. :)


	22. Chapter 22

Author Note: Helloooo!

Oh, you have no idea how much I want to write another author note again. It's been so long since I updated the last chapter and I just miss talking to all of you so much.

The thing is I have no other excuses for my disappearance but work and life as always. And also, this chapter is so hard to finish cuz it strongly affects the next chapter, like very strongly affects.

Anyway, that cannot stops me from thanking all of you here for every support, comment, favourite, follow. I really really appreciate that.

First of all, thank you my dear StayPeculiar who is always waiting for me no matter what and always shares some great ideas and questions with me. You mean a lot to me as well. And yes, I always wonder what happened to them in those scenes and also the scene when the house was raided. Past lives are very interesting but I don't know, I have heard these new books are gonna be about another ymbryne and her children. I'm not sure whether what I have heard is true, but if it is, I'll be so sad that I will not get to see them again. But yeah, I will try to open my mind to a new group as well anyway. Thank you so much for being here with me in this journey.

For Ash Wave, thank you for your amazing ideas as always. And sorry that it took me so long to finish each chapter. I promise I'll try my best to make each of them worth a while. Thank you.

For Harpyl, yeah, in the book he is quite serious. I try to make him kind of crazier here. And thanks for the guess. And you will see whether you get it right here in this chapter. Thanks again.

For Selene, thank you so much. I cannot just rush it and destroy it like that, indeed. I just love it so much that I'm okay if it's taking me so long to finish it rather than wrapping it up and making it bad. And thanks for sharing this information. I'll check it out now.

For rebecca-in-blue, welcome again to this story. Thank you for your ideas in each chapter. And I have nothing much to say but your story is the best as well. And I'm waiting to read more about Alma and Sirius. They are so cute. Thank you.

And of course, although I haven't talked to them for a long time, I hope they see this cuz they are my sweet friends in this writing world, Yuna McHill and Peralislove. Thank you so much for your inspiration and everything.

Okay, now, come back to the chapter. **Before I let you go, please note that I have to rate this chapter M first just in case. There will be no sexual violent but there will definitely be violent scenes here. No bad words though.** Also, as I've mentioned above already that this chapter is quite hard to write, so if you see any errors you can let me know. It's okay and I'll be so grateful as well if you let me know what you think of it.

Okay. Now I'm just gonna let you go to enjoy this. Hope you have a great time and hope it's worth to wait.

Thank you again and..

ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XXII

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _I hear my heart beat._

 _Slowly._

 _Quietly._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _It is so dark that I cannot even see my own hands, let alone everything around me._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _But I have been here before._

 _So many times, actually._

 _I'm not frightened._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _Still, I'm nervous._

 _Very nervous._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _I begin to take a step in this infinite darkness, don't really know where to go._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _Everywhere looks the same._

 _Dark._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _Unfriendly._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _And then I see it. I see that little spot of light, as tiny as a bean._

 _There._

 _Very…far…far away._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _It's growing larger._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _Stronger._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _Brighter._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _I squint._

 _Thud Thud…Thud Thud…Thud Thud…Thud Thud_

 _And then…everything is…white._

 _It's so strange that when I was trapped in the world of darkness, time still ticked._

 _Slowly._

 _Very slowly._

 _But it didn't stop._

 _Now…Now it stops._

 _It stands so still that I can feel a sea of dust floating around my face and body._

 _Can I move?_

 _I don't know._

 _Am I still breathing?_

 _I don't know._

 _It is like when she has stopped her watch._

 _When she presses the crown on her beloved brass pocketwatch._

 _Everything around her, every creature, every plant, every tree, every rock, even every single drop of rain, are deprived of life._

 _Their time is stolen._

 _For a few seconds, at least._

 _Before it is returned to all of them again._

 _As good as new._

 _I can't see a thing here._

 _In this ocean of whiteness, I am drowning alone._

 _No one can help me._

 _No matter how hard I scream._

 _So I just let myself drown._

 _Sinking deeper and deeper into the familiar sea that is still unfamiliar to me._

 _Waiting to reach the bottom._

 _Tick tock…Tick tock…Tick tock_

 _I imagine her watch's sound in my head._

 _Tick tock…Tick tock…Tick tock_

 _It's my protective melody._

 _Tick tock…Tick tock…Tick tock_

 _But then…when the light is gone…the tick-tock is gone as well._

 _And…_

 _I see her…_

 _I can see her._

 _She is just there._

 _In front of me._

 _Broken._

 _Shattered._

 _Like me._

 _I want to run to her._

 _But I can't._

 _She is so close. Yet so far._

 _'_ _Yes, Alma, it doesn't have to end like this.'_

 _And then I see him. He who claims to be her brother. He who hurts me and my family. He who, now, has a gun in his hand. Pointing at her._

 _'_ _But,' he steps closer to her, his eyes on her, his smile widening, 'I'm afraid that depends on you.'_

 _Then he hands her the gun._

 _And everything flashes black._

* * *

 _'_ _BOO!'_

 _The first thing I see when I open my eyes is…she jumps._

 _She jumps._

 _And he laughs._

 _He laughs at her._

 _As if this is nothing._

 _As if there were nothing serious going on between her and him._

 _As if in his hand were a glistening pink lollipop._

 _As if it were not something that can bring death upon everyone in just a second._

 _'_ _Oh look.'_

 _Look what?_

 _Oh no._

 _And I see her as well._

 _Emma._

 _Trapped._

 _Caged._

 _In the water._

 _In a glass box._

 _Not far from me._

 _'_ _I think she might need some air soon, my dear.'_

 _What should I do to help them?_

 _I want to stay here._

 _I want to stay with them although all of this is just a dream._

 _But there is nothing much I can do in this realm._

 _I'm just a ghost here._

 _A ghost who is allowed to witness but not to interfere._

 _But I really want to._

 _I really want to._

 _I really want to…_

* * *

 _The picture changes again._

 _What is she thinking, I wonder?_

 _She is staring at the gun in his hand._

 _Her brain is working so hard now, that I can tell._

 _But what is her solution for this?_

 _It's not that she can't kill, I know._

 _But this is just…different._

 _This is not a loop._

 _Once she puts an end to someone's life, they will never come back._

 _Also,…if he is really her brother,…can she…really…do that?_

 _Can she?_

* * *

 _Another picture appears._

 _Yes, this is how my dreams work._

 _Fragments after fragments._

 _Woven into the prophetic fabric that only be cherished but not to touch._

 _I enjoy this sometimes._

 _I do._

 _But now, I'd rather be an ordinary boy who knows nothing about the future than being me who is trapped in my own nightmare, especially this nightmare._

 _'_ _I am going to give you this gun, Alma.' His voice is so gentle. As if he was talking to a little girl, a little girl who is so terrified. 'What you need to know is,'_

 _He pauses, looking at the gun._

 _'_ _There is only one bullet here. Only one.' He smiles at her. Sweetly._

 _And although I want to know what happens next, although I long to stay here a bit longer, I am pulled into the infinite darkness again._

 _Irresistibly._

 _Inevitably._

* * *

 _'_ _Over my dead body!'_

 _I blink to adjust my eyes._

 _She is getting angry. And to be honest, I doubt I used to see her being so frightening like this to someone before._

 _She is usually kind and sweet._

 _Strict, yes, sometimes, but never has she been this angry._

 _'_ _So,' he leans forward until his face is just an inch from hers, 'I will give you this gun. And I promise you, my dear, if you accomplish the task I am about to assign you, the girl will be saved. I will even let her go.'_

 _'_ _What task?'_

 _Whatever task it is, I doubt it's going to be something pleasant._

 _'_ _Killing someone.'_

 _'_ _Who?'_

 _Who?_

 _'_ _Her.'_

 _I see her turn to take a look at the newcomer who has just been brought to this room. I, too, try to see who that poor girl is, the girl who is sentenced to death._

 _Could it be one of my sisters?_

 _That was my guess at first. But that would be impossible and unreasonable for her to hurt another child in order to save Emma._

 _So who?_

 _Who could it be?_

 _Who could be a perfect leverage for this game of his?_

 _'_ _Alma?'_

 _No!_

* * *

 _She visits our loop so often._

 _Every time she comes, the little ones will be so excited for she always brings them sweets and lots of chocolate that Miss Peregrine doesn't allow us to have too much._

 _Also, there will be things from the mainland, some from her time, and some from the present, for all of us; toys, books, dolls, or even clothes for me._

 _And her apple pie is the best._

 _Yes, Miss P's pie is so great as well but even Miss P herself has to admit that her pie is divine, so divine that even Enoch, who doesn't enjoy desserts much, always have more than one piece every time she bakes it._

 _However, although her presents are good and her pie is beyond magnificent, what we all love most is when she tells us about Miss Peregrine, mostly about when she was young._

 _That is probably the only time we get to learn how great and talented our ymbryne is and how much she has sacrificed herself to be our foster mother. We can listen to her stories all day. And even though some of them have already been told so many times, we all just love to hear it again and again._

 _She is Miss Peregrine's teacher and in a way, ours as well._

 _She loves us all and we love her, too._

 _I used to wonder how much Miss P loves her but then the answer is quite obvious, isn't it? Miss P must have loved her as much as we love Miss P for she is her guidance, her mentor, her family._

 _So…_

 _This is the decision that cannot be made._

 _'_ _You have to, Alma.' Miss Esmeralda Avocet insists._

 _She is tied to a chair. Bruises are on her arms and cheeks._

 _'_ _No!'_

 _'_ _You have sworn an oath, haven't you? Don't you remember?'_

 _'_ _I cannot do this!'_

 _'_ _An ymbryne must take peculiar children as her first priority in any circumstances. You swore to me on the day you finished your training, Alma.'_

 _'_ _No!'_

 _'_ _You've promised me already, Alma. Keep your words.'_

 _No._

 _Miss P will not do that._

 _I just know right away._

 _Because if I were in this situation, if Miss P were tied and I were the one who held the gun, I wouldn't do that as well._

 _It's no point; saving one life by destroying another, especially another that you love too._

 _It's no point…_

* * *

 _I try to wake up to see my dream but for this time…I just can't._

 _Suddenly, my eyes just turn heavier and heavier until I cannot lift my eyelids._

 _The thing is…I'm still awake._

 _In this world of darkness, I'm still conscious._

 _All I have to do is just trying to open my eyes._

 _'_ _No!'_

 _It's Miss P's voice._

 _Something happens._

 _Something horrible._

 _But what?_

 _Wake up, Horace!_

 _'_ _No, please…'_

 _Then I see them._

 _But not clearly._

 _It is as if I were looking at them through some dirty looking glass._

 _It's Miss Peregrine._

 _Crying._

 _In front of the glass box._

 _Emma.._

 _Wake up, Horace!_

 _And she…_

 _Emma is…_

 _She is not…moving._

 _Her eyes close._

 _She is…floating very still in…the water._

 _'_ _Emma!'_

 _What happens?_

 _What happens to her? To them?_

 _Everything becomes dark again._

 _No!_

 _Not now._

 _NOT NOW!_

 _'_ _Alma…'_

 _I try to blink._

 _I try to come back to the realm I have just left._

 _But to no avail._

 _'_ _Please, Jack…I beg you.'_

 _'_ _I beg you…'_

 _AAAH!_

 _The first thing I see when I can open my eyes is his face._

 _Yes, I have seen his face quite a few times since I arrived here but this time, it's just an inch away from me._

 _But he doesn't look at me._

 _Of course, he cannot see me._

 _But I wish he could…for at least I could distract him from whatever evil things he is doing to Miss P right now._

 _She is on the floor before me as well. Crying. Begging._

 _My Miss P._

 _He leans forward to whisper in her ear. And I hear every single word from his evil tongue._

 _He sings._

 _'_ _Hush, little baby, don't say a word,_

 _Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird._

 _And if that mockingbird won't sing,_

 _Papa's….'_

 _He chuckles._

 _'_ _Papa's gonna break its pretty wings.'_

 _I punch his face so hard but it goes right through him._

 _He laughs while rising up._

 _'_ _Play your game, Alma.'_

 _He says._

 _Very loudly._

 _So loud that it echoes across the room._

 _'_ _Play-your-game.'_

 _I reach my hand out, trying to wipe her tears._

 _Yes, I can't._

 _I'm here, Miss P._

 _I'm here._

 _I'm here._

 _Then she turns to me._

 _For a split second, I thought she sees me._

 _But no._

 _She turns for something else beside her._

 _Something that I am sitting upon._

 _A gun._

 _The gun._

 _'_ _Hahaha, yes. Be a good girl, my little bird.'_

 _She grabs it._

 _She grabs the gun._

 _What is she going to do?_

 _'_ _Just play your game.'_

 _She raises it up._

 _To Miss Avocet?_

 _No._

 _To him?_

 _To him._

 _'_ _Oh, Alma, I'm so disappointed. Is that how you're going to play?'_

 _She doesn't reply._

 _Although her face shows no sign of love but hatred, it's a kind of hatred that can only occur when you loved someone whom you hate so much._

 _'_ _On this board of yours,'_

 _Out of no where, she speaks up._

 _'_ _You might think you have all pieces on the right place where you want it to be.'_

 _Even he seems a bit confused._

 _'_ _You might think you are a king, sitting on a throne, surrounded by your servants.'_

 _I don't understand._

 _'_ _You might think you could force me to sit on another throne and gradually kill my pawns, my rooks, my knights, my bishops and my queen before my eyes.'_

 _She slightly shakes her head._

 _'_ _But you are wrong…I am no king…nor queen…nor pawn…nor bishop, nor knight, nor rook on this board.'_

 _She slowly stands up. Her gun is still pointing at him._

 _'_ _I am not your pieces.'_

 _What does she mean?_

 _'_ _And I will not play your game.'_

 _Miss P?_

 _'_ _Let it end…'_

 _I swear it's just a second, a split second, that I see her pulls the gun back and instead of pointing it to someone, she…places it on her temple._

 _'…_ _with me.'_

 _NOOOOO!_

 _BANG_

 _And the last thing I see is her body on the red floor._

* * *

You have no idea how much I die to see your reaction after finishing this chapter. Please kindly share that with me if you want to. I'll be so glad to answer every question and comment as well.


	23. Chapter 23

Author Note: Hi!

Wow, I don't really know how to begin this, actually. It's been a long time. But yeah, I'm still writing no matter what.

Well, thank you so much that you guys still stay with me and are still waiting. So many things happen like because now my life is changing from a student to an adult, I think. I mean I have to work and, you know, take care of myself now, so time just disappears. Anyway, as you can see, somehow, I can manage to finish this, so Hurray! We have got a new chapter.

And first of all, I owe all of these kind people some answers, so please see my reply to your comment below ;)

For Juju350, hi! And thank you so much. Don't worry at all. English isn't my first language as well and as you can see, there are still a lot of grammatical errors in my note. So, it's alright. Let's just talk.

For Ash Wave, hey, I don't know what to say but thank you that you're still here. Yeah, it's quite intense, indeed. And thanks for your kind word but believe me, I'm just an amateur.

For PommeEmpoisonnee, hello and nice to meet you. It's okay, don't worry. Just hearing that you have reread it for so many times and you are happy are great enough. For the characters, I try to make it kind of grey, not white or black, but I have to admit that it's hard because the original characters have already been set up and I cannot mess up with their characters that much. Otherwise, I would destroy their core. So yeah, I might have added something complex to them but it's just only a bit. I have to give all credits to Ransom. For the flashbacks, I kind of feel like it's a very good tool to reveal or portray characters, so yes, you'll see a lot of them in my story. And for the last part, hehe, yes, I'm a very very big fan of Penny Dreadful and I'm also a big fan of Eva so when I wrote this, I could remember that Eva used to say this line before, but I cannot recall which show or movie is that. I mean I should have known cuz I've watched. PD for like thousands times but because I always skip that scene (I cannot stand it. It's beautiful but I just cannot) so I didn't get this until I saw your comment. Thanks to that. And yeah, I agree that they share so many similarities. I just wanna make sure that you know that this is not wasting my time at all. Actually, it's something that can drive me up, can kind of boost me. And hey, don't worry, I'm Thai from a small country in led Thailand and my English isn't perfect as well. Doesn't matter as long as we can understand each other, right?

For Eva Ives, woah your username is really cool. Thank you and sorry that it took me so long to finish the next chapter but hey, here we are. And I know that now everyone is worried about Miss P and every child. I just can't say anything but hang in there.

For Vizidoodle, thanks and good to talk to you again. Yeah, I hope she will be okay as well, but I cannot trust myself, you know. Anyway, I'll try my best.

For Harpyl, well, I cannot answer your question for sure. But thank you, anyway, for your kind words. I really appreciate that. All I can say is, let's see ;)

For some guest here, yeah, I know it's kind of what the f*** thing but keep reading and it might get better (or worse, who knows, lol)

For StayPeculiar, my dear, I'm so thankful that you're always here. And yeah, I keep asking me that question as well, why I would do that :) And believe me, everyone can come up with such a powerful story if they are i to it. Not just a story, actually. It's kind of everything that we do. And…so sorry that I broke your heart, lol. As a friend, I'm really really sorry but as a writer, yes, you're right, I have to admit that I'm quite happy. Don't take me wrong. It's just you know the author's thing and feelings when their piece has an impact on their readers, especially, this much. And, oops, seems like I've hurt her already. Thanks for everything and yes, it's hard to kill a character. Also, I really appreciate that you come back to read and share more opinions. It really means so much to me. Kind of reminding me that someone is still waiting, and I have to be faster and better. Well, can't wait to see your reaction after this chapter. I'm sure I have to find some shelter, maybe padded room or somewhere safe enough to hide from you and the others. ;) As for your lovely questions, well, I've been writing since I was very young, like 7-8, I think. But that time it was more like a short story and it was in Thai, my first language. There are a lot of stories I have come up on my own and I've never written any fanfics before. But after Miss Peregrine is out, I just want to come up with something, so that's the beginning of these stories. For the second question, well, I always have the rough idea in my head first and I'll see to this whether it is reasonable enough, whether I have the way to end this, and like kind of make sure that everything makes sense. And then I plot it to like rough scenes, like big scenes that I'll include in my story, like the big step to the end. And when I'm sure that everything is linked, I write. And since this is a fanfic, so I kind of want to explore more about each character so I allow myself to add more details, as you can see like those flashbacks or other unimportant scenes. Basically, I have everything planned. It's just the matter of time and other details that might be a bit difficult part to deal with. For the third one, lol. although I always end mine with a cliffhanger, I won't say it's the best way. Sometimes, I just feel like I need a break from a cliffhanger, but you know it's kind of the easiest way to end each chap so, as you can see, a lot of them appear here. I think for this question it depends on each author. They have their own style and their own way of ending their own chapters. Some might end it with nothing special while some might leave a giant bomb to their readers. It depends. I don't know whether that can help but thanks for these questions, anyway.

For another Bunnycake, well, thanks for your version of Santa Claus is coming to town. It's really cute. Thanks for all of the questions as well although I don't think I can answer them without spoiling you. And no, you're not bothering me at all. Actually, this is what drives me to write. Thanks again for sharing this with me and for reading this. I promise to keep trying.

For Abigail, hi and I know it's pretty shocking. But let's just say you might be one of only a few people who notice that this is Horace's dream and it hasn't happened yet. But well, I think if you haven't cried on the floor the last time, well, you might want to prepare the floor this time. ;)I don't know, just some advice, I guess. And yeah, Eva's voice can makes everything powerful and memorable. I can still remember her face when she says this. Hard to forget.

For latesquaddd, hi and glad to meet you. Thank you so much. Yes, I always wonder how he perceives everything, so I always dreamed to write one chapter from his perspective during the time when he has his vision. And yeah, that's how this chapter begins. For your questions, I have studied English since I was young but because I studied it in Thai school, so I didn't go so far. But then I attended an English Program like 10 years ago and I think that was when it got somewhere. So I'd say 14-15 years, I guess. And thanks for your compliment but believe me, there are still a lot of grammatical errors or word choices or other things that need to be improved. For the second question, I'm so sorry to say that for this one, I kind of have no idea. I mean you can check my favorite lists. Some of them include Caul but for Myron, I'm not really sure. One of them stands out, though. This is from my friend, NejiHina100, and the story is Yet If Hope Has Flown Away. It features Caul as well, so you might wanna check it out. Sorry that I cannot help that much. But thanks, anyway, for asking. I promise to try my best.

For another guest, hi and for your question about how often I update this, well, frankly, I don't really know. I kind of cannot answer this because I am now working, and my life is super busy and also sometimes, it's just kind of hard to, you know, come up with these words and make them organised, understandable, and strong. But no matter what, I promise that I'll finish this for sure. So thank you and I'll try to update more often, if possible.

For rebecca-in-blue, hi and thank you so much for sharing your opinions with me. Yeah, I admit that the pace is quite too slow now and it might be a bit boring to read. I'll try to see to that and improve that. Anyway, I just wanna say I kind of like your story very much, the crossover with Miss P and Sirius. Thanks again for your idea. :)

And a special thank, as always, go to my sis, Yuna McHill, who is a marvelous editor of my piece. Without you, it wouldn't have been this great, my dear. Thanks for everything.

Okay, after so much talking, I think it's time to let all of you go. Thank you again for your big support and don't forget, your words, ideas, and opinions mean a lot to me. I'll keep trying I promise.

Till the next time and ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter XXIII

That night was bitterly cold.

And it was raining.

So heavily that Alma couldn't see the way.

In fact, she just flapped her wings and headed aimlessly to someplace as far away as possible from the place she had just left.

'Run. Alma! Run!'

Her mother's last word still rang in her ears. The gun, blood, and bodies were still so fresh. She tried to think of it as a dream, a nightmare, but every single drop of rain here was a perfect proof that it was not. Her wing was shot. And it hurt enough when she moved, let alone when it was stabbed by the freezing raindrops that were more like thousands of needles.

She didn't even know when she passed the loop entrance although the sky must have suddenly turned clear and bright and been decorated with billions of twinkling stars as it always was.

She was being haunted by those terrifying pictures in her head and, as a result, shutting herself out of the world around completely. It might have been her pure instinct that brought her to this place.

When she landed clumsily on the porch of the house, she only just realised where she really was and she had absolutely no idea how she could have brought herself all the way here in this condition.

Her feathers were completely soaked and the air around was chilly. Her blood was still dribbling and her whole body was throbbing.

She tried to transform back but couldn't. The pain was beyond unbearable, so she decided to give up in the end.

Anyway, Alma knew she couldn't just stay like this. Either her wound or the cold would get her soon, so she'd better do something unless she wanted to face a gruesome death.

Like her father.

Like her mother.

Alma closed her eyes. She tried to concentrate on what was happening, not what had happened. But it wasn't easy at all. Everything was still so vivid — their screams, the fear in their eyes the moment before their life slipped away. Every single element of what had just happened was so clear to her as if it happened again and again now, right here, in front of her.

She made a sad screech. She had never known before that the bird could make such a sound. It was stronger than any sad melodies and sharper than any miserable cries she had ever heard. It came from her broken body, her broken soul, her broken heart for the loss of her brothers, her parents and the life she used to know. From now on, she had to walk on a path she had never trodden. From now on, she would have to fly on this road alone. From now on, she had no one.

Perhaps, the reason she had come here might be that she always felt this was the only place where she could really feel safe. Perhaps, she had brought herself here to ask for help. _But what for?_ They were all gone. Perhaps, she didn't need help. Perhaps, the only thing she needed now was… an escape from this misery.

So she stayed still like a statue, allowing chill air to bite her. The dripping sound of her warm blood was such a melancholic but peaceful lullaby. Soon she would join her parents. Soon she would see them again. Soon… very soon.

* * *

… she felt a warm hand on her forehead…

… she heard a humming…

… she knew that her body was no longer soaked…

… if this was death, it was not that bad…

'Alma.'

Someone called her. Someone she knew.

'Alma, my dear.'

Perhaps, this could be her mother. Perhaps, she had already crossed to another realm.

'Alma, can you hear me?'

She slowly opened her eyes.

Everything was so bright that she had to blink repeatedly.

She was in… a room. A bedroom. Her own bedroom. But not the one in her house. It was the one in her mentor's.

'Miss Avocet.'

And then she saw her. Her beloved ymbryne.

Esmeralda Avocet sat beside her near her bed. Next to her were a water basin, cloth and bandages. Alma looked at her arm and it was well dressed. She had just realised as well that she was now in her human form already.

'What happened, Alma? Could you please tell me?'

As if that question were a key for the box that kept her recent memory, every picture, every sound, every feeling came back to her again, echoing through every vein in her body. Then came the flood of tears, pouring down while her limbs were shaking uncontrollably. She turned numb. She couldn't say a word. It was too painful to speak.

It was when Miss Avocet pulled her into her arms that Alma's pain gradually wore off. It was still there, yes, she knew, but for some reason everything was less scary. At least, on the path she had to walk she still had her mentor with her. At least, she was not really alone.

'Shhhh… my dear. Shhhhh… it's okay if you don't wish to tell me now.'

She should have told Miss Avocet, she knew. But she just couldn't speak. It was as if her voice had been stolen. She couldn't find it, no matter how hard she tried. So she just held her ymbryne like that, cried on her shoulder like a little girl and wished she could stay like this forever, safe and sound under her ymbryne's wings, oblivious to what had happened, what was happening and what would happen. She did not want to do anything else. She did not want to eat, drink, or even fly. She just wanted to stay like this. That was all she needed.

But she couldn't.

'Miss Avocet!'

It was one of Miss Avocet's boys that Alma used to meet when she visited here. He was under Miss Avocet's protection but actually he was a grown-up already. So he was more like Miss Avocet's assistant who helped her look after the children.

'What, Bay?'

'Something happened at the loop entrance.' His face looked pale and shocked. 'Something killed the villagers.'

'What?'

Bay turned to Alma as if he were asking for her forgiveness from what he was about to say.

'I think Caul brought them here, Miss.'

And that night, although Alma was far from being well, she had to travel a very long journey again. Miss Avocet and Bay woke the children up and just a few minutes later they left their house, leaving almost all their belongings, for there was no time left. Then, to make everything worse, a light drizzle began to fall and soon came the heavy rain. They all had to walk through sticky mud up the hill and then down until they reached a lonely abandoned cottage behind it. They hid inside, gathering together in the darkness, shivering from the cold.

Alma sat in one corner with the thickest blanket, since Miss Avocet was certain that she would have a fever soon from her wound. She couldn't look around because she knew that every eye was on her, blaming her for what happened. It wasn't her, yes, but it was her brothers, after all. So although Alma didn't join this bloodshed, she couldn't help feeling responsible for what her brothers did. At least, more than half of the room here thought so.

But Miss Avocet didn't.

She told off some teenage boys who began to be rude to Alma. She was the only one at that time who didn't see her as a _freak_ like her brother. She gave her shelter, protection and love as always. She was the one who tried to raise Alma up from the darkest moment in her life, although she and her children were also in the middle of this darkness as well.

They stayed like that all night, until Bay came in and told Miss Avocet that Caul and whatever he had brought with him were gone. But Miss Avocet didn't want to take the risk, so she flew to get her saving money in the house and then they decided to abandon their loop to create a new one in a new place.

Alma was there, through all of this. And there was nothing she could help with. If it were not because of Miss Avocet's kindness and love, she wouldn't have survived this far and become Alma Lefay Peregrine.

So how could she?

* * *

'Alma?'

Miss Peregrine is speechless.

She looks at her beloved trainer who is now tied to a chair. There are some bruises on Miss Avocet's face and Alma can't believe that they dared to hurt her. She looks quite shocked and leans a bit backwards. At first, Alma thinks it's because of the presence of her brother, but then she realises it isn't. It is because of what she is holding in her hand, pointing directly at her trainer's head.

'No way!' Alma pulls it back at once when she understands what her brother has asked her to do. 'I will _never_ do this!'

Jack looks at his sister for a moment. It's a moment of silence and at first, Alma thinks after this silence is gone, she would be slapped and forced to give the gun back, but she is wrong. Just a second after, Caul smiles again and whistles. He walks towards Miss Avocet and places his hand on her shoulders, doesn't even care that Alma is still holding the gun.

'My, my, look at her.' He whispers into Miss Avocet's ear. 'Aren't you proud of her? She is exactly like you, following the footsteps of a bunch of idiots who try to be a nanny for those children.'

'Don't listen to him, Esmeralda!'

'But you do understand the situation here, don't you?' Jack continues. 'If she kills you, that lovely girl in that glass box is going to live. But that will happen if only she kills you.'

'There must be another way, Esmeralda.'

'Isn't she your sister, Caul?' Miss Avocet asks, her eyes move from Alma's to the white ones. 'Aren't you her brother? How could you do this to her?'

Jack doesn't reply. He just stares back at the old lady and then looks away. Silence fills the room again before he speaks up, but to Alma.

'I gave you the choice already, my little bird. Don't you waste it.'

'I will _not_ do that.' Alma insists strongly.

'Then let's watch your girl die then. Shall we watch together while having your other children's eyeballs as a snack?'

'Stop it!'

'Or shall we wait a bit more and let's come up with some other ways to _play_ with your children? Like… let those ugly twins petrify the little girl?'

'Stop that!'

'Or shall we just gather them together in one room and let them kill each other or even themselves in order to save you? Ooh, I'm certain those little ones will be the firsts for sure.'

'STOP!'

Alma has just realised that she is panting heavily and shaking from head to toe. Her face becomes damp with a stream of tears again. Another thing that she has just realised, is that now the gun in her hand is pointing towards her brother's head. Her finger is on the trigger, ready to pull.

'Go on.' Jack laughs. 'Shoot me, if you want to. But don't forget what I have already told you, Alma. Don't forget that.'

Alma doesn't lower her gun although she knows she cannot shoot him. What else can she do? She cannot shoot the tank behind her, she cannot shoot Jack, she cannot shoot Miss Avocet, so _what else I can do?_

'Don't you see, my dear, there's no way out.' Jack walks back to his sister. 'So just shoot her. That's all.'

'Alma.'

Miss Peregrine turns to see her ymbryne.

'Save her.'

She knows Miss Avocet means Emma. And she knows that this lady has always taught her to take the children as their first priority. But this time, she just cannot do that.

'Save her, Alma.'

'No, Esmeralda, I will _not_ kill you!'

'You have to, Alma.'

'No!'

'You have sworn an oath, haven't you? Don't you remember?'

'I cannot do this!'

'An ymbryne must take peculiar children as her first priority in any circumstances. You swore to me on the day you finished your training, Alma.'

'No!'

'An ymbryne must prioritise the peculiars, especially the ones under their wings. Their lives shall be put above your own no matter what, for…'

* * *

'… for from the first day you hold them in your arm, you become their guidance, their saviour, their protector and their mother.'

'Remember this, Alma. Just remember this.' Miss Avocet smiled at her new ymbryne who in her opinion was the most talented one she used to train.

'I will. I promise, Miss Avocet.' Alma replied with a smile.

'Dear, from now on, although there's a large gap between our age, I'm afraid you should call me by my first name for I am now your sister, my Alma.'

Alma chuckled a bit, but when she saw that Miss Avocet was waiting to hear from her, she gathered herself and called Miss Avocet by her first name for the first time.

'Yes,… Esmeralda.'

'Great.' Miss Avocet stepped forwards and grabbed Alma's hands. 'And from now on, everyone will know you as Alma Lefay Peregrine.'

It sounded a bit strange, since this was the first time she heard that after being known as Alma Lefay Bentham for so long. But she really loved it.

'Good luck, my dear Miss Peregrine.'

* * *

'You've promised me already, Alma.' Miss Avocet reminds her student. 'Keep your words.'

It's more like a command, not a pleading. As if this is just another test that she has to overcome to become the great ymbryne in her mentor's eyes.

'Concentrate, Alma.' And concentrate she did.

'Faster, Alma.' And faster she became.

'Stronger, Alma.' And stronger she has turned to be.

'Kill me, Alma.'

Does she… really… have to do… this?

Does she really have to follow Miss Avocet's word this time?

Does she really have to…kill her own ymbryne?

 _Do I?_

Thud thud…

 _Do I have to do this?_

Thud thud…

 _Do I really have to kill her?_

Thud thud…

 _Isn't there any other way out?_

Thud thud…

 _Must it be this way?_

 **THUD THUD!**

It's like something very strong pulling Alma out of the freezing sea. So fast that she almost chokes.

She almost forgets that apart from the gun, Miss Avocet, Jack, and herself, she still has… Emma here.

Every pair of eyes but Miss Peregrine's turn to the girl in the glass box.

Alma hesitates at first whether to turn around or not, but when she's certain that something happens to Emma, the Bird looks back.

Her girl must have struggled a few seconds ago.

Alma isn't sure, for when she turns around Emma's hands gradually drop down and float gently in the water. Her eyes are now closed and there are no longer bubbles coming from her mouth or nose.

The girl doesn't move anymore.

'Emma?'

Alma mumbles.

'Emma?'

She says it louder but it's no use.

'Emma.'

'Victor.'

It is like what happened long time ago, under the rain, when she once used to call another child like this.

'Victor?'

'Emma?'

She repeats when her girl doesn't reply. So did she when her boy remained silent.

'Victor?'

'Emma.'

And then she slowly brings her injured body to the glass box where her girl is, like when she crawled to her boy who laid still on the grass.

'Victor.'

'Emma.'

She touches the glass where her girl's face is so close to. It is like she is just sleeping. And Alma believes with all her heart that if she calls her girl a bit louder, Emma is going to wake up.

'Emma!'

'Victor.'

But he didn't.

But she didn't.

'Victor!'

Still no answer.

Her voice begins to crack and her hands tremble more severely.

This cannot happen again. She has made a vow. This will not happen again as long as she's still breathing. She has made a vow. _I have made a vow._

'Emma!'

She feels like she can't breathe. Suddenly, the whole room becomes smaller until it is not larger than a coffin. She feels like she is buried. Deep, deep down under the cold ground.

'Victor!'

His blood was on her hands, her lap, her face, her legs, everywhere.

'Victor!'

His eyes were gone. There was nothing left but two bloody dark holes on his face.

'Victor!'

And she knew no matter how hard she cried, he wouldn't wake up again.

'Victor!'

So does she.

'Emma!'

Alma cries.

She no longer cares that Jack is there. She no longer cares that her tears will please him. This is too much. This is unbearable. She cannot endure this anymore. She should have let him kill her since that day when he took away their mother's life. She shouldn't have flown away. That way it might not have been this hurtful. That way they might not have had to die because of her. That way her sweet girl and boy would have still been alive.

'NOOO!'

She keeps knocking although there is no reply. Her baby is so close to her, but she cannot even touch her hair. Her hand is just less than an inch from her girl's, but she cannot hold it. What on earth has she done to deserve this cruel punishment?

It takes her a few seconds before she realises that crying here cannot make anything better. If she can bring Emma out right now, her child might still have a chance. So Alma turns back to Jack and decides to do what she has never thought she would do before.

She kneels down.

Alma swears she has never seen a smile as pleasant as this from Jack before. The moment when her knees touch the cold floor, Alma can hear his heart, if he has one, scream with joy. The Bird tries to focus on Emma, on her children, on her teacher. She tries to throw away her pride, since it is nothing compared to her children. And although she has no idea how many times she has said this word today, she finds her voice to speak it up again.

'Please, Jack…I beg you…I beg you.'

She doesn't move when he swoops down to meet her face. Instead, she looks directly into his eyes, revealing him every ounce of pain and fear in her heart. If this is what he wants, she will let him have it. She will give him everything if that can save her girl's life.

'Please…' she whispers.

And suddenly, Jack's face changes.

His evil smile disappears and is replaced with a soft one. His eyes turn sad and sympathetic. And for a moment, just for a moment, Alma allows herself to be stupid enough to believe that he would change his mind.

But that is before he moves closer and sings in her ear,

'Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird won't sing,

Papa's…'

He chuckles.

'Papa's gonna break its pretty wings.'

And then he bursts out into laughter. Like someone has just told him the funniest story in the world.

' **Play your game, Alma.** ' He says. So loudly that it echoes across the room.

'Play. Your. Game.'

That is when Alma realises that it doesn't matter how much pain she is suffering from or how many tears she has lost. It doesn't matter how many deaths she has to witness or how many people are tormented in front of her. As long as she can still feel more pain, as long as she can still cry, as long as she can still be his spectator, this… will never end.

She knows Jack will not give her a key.

She knows he might have another 'game' waiting for her after Miss Avocet.

She knows Emma probably doesn't have much time left.

And she knows that out there, her other children are near. She can feel them. And at least, she has just found Jake.

They can help her girl.

They can help Emma.

If her _beloved_ brother and his minions leave this room.

All she has to do is making him leave this room as soon as possible.

And the only reason why he is still here is… her.

So…how?

No, she isn't in a condition to transform and fly away. Besides, it would have been no use since he still has her people.

There's no way out.

No other ways out.

...But this...

So she turns to something besides her that she has just dropped on the cold floor.

'Hahaha, yes. Be a good girl, my little bird.'

She reaches out her shivering hand and slowly she grabs it, feeling its coldness against her palm again. It's like she has collected the heaviest freezing pebble.

'Just play your game.'

For a split second, she can't help asking, _is this really the only way out?_

 _Have I made the right decision?_

 _Have I?_

But when she thinks about her Emma, in that cold water, in that glass box, she raises it up. She knows she has to raise it up.

 _Are you certain, Alma?_

 _Are you?_

Yes. But to whom?

 _Are you sure?_

To him.

'Oh Alma,' he begins, 'I'm so disappointed. Is that how you're going to play?'

She remains silent, allowing old memories to flood in. And although she cannot really find the good ones, she still misses those old days when she had her father, her mother and her two brothers around.

She hates him.

But she loved him.

She loves him.

So this is hard.

'Listen carefully, Jack.'

 _Are you sure you want to do this, Alma?_

'On this board of yours,'

Her voice is so hoarse that she can no longer remember it is hers,

'you might think you have all pieces on the right place where you want them to be.'

He is confused, she can tell.

'You might think you are a king, sitting on a throne, surrounded by your servants.'

 _Is this the right decision, Alma?_

 _Is it?_

'You might think you could force me to sit on another throne and gradually kill my pawns, my rooks, my knights, my bishops and my queen before my eyes.'

 _Is it?_

'But you are wrong.'

 _Is it?_

 _'_ I am no king… nor queen… nor pawn… nor bishop nor knight nor rook on this board.'

She struggles to stand up, swallowing all of the pain that quickly surges back.

'I am not your pieces.'

 _It is._

'And I will not play your game.'

 _It is the right decision, Alma._

 _It is..._

* * *

'Miss Peregrine.'

'Miss Peregrine!'

Alma shook her head and pulled herself back to where she was. On a mat, in the garden, under the apple tree. And it was in summer. September the 3rd, to be more specific.

'Please don't stop.' Little Claire begged and pointed at a little girl with blond hair like her in a book.

The twins cooed. Three of them were on Miss Peregrine's lap, listening to the story she read.

'Alright,' the Bird said, 'where were we?'

'Here. She found a rose.'

'Ahh, yes, here, and then the little girl stood up and…' She was going on and on but she couldn't help thinking about other children.

This afternoon they acted so strangely. Alma knew that they were hiding something from her, but she couldn't figure out what was that. They planned it quite well, she had to admit. They sent her out to the garden with the little ones who didn't allow her to go anywhere. And Horace was pretending to sleep not far from them, waking up every time Alma needed something in the house.

They were up to something for sure but what.

'…and that's the end.' She closed the book. This time she would make sure that no matter what she must know what was going on inside. 'Alright, my dear, I think it's time for me to prepare you dinner.'

'NOOO!' Suddenly, Little Claire just wrapped her arms around her neck and the twins around her waist.

'Please stay here a bit longer.'

'Claire,' Alma smiled, 'aren't you hungry, sweetheart?'

'No.'

'But I'm sure you will be very soon and others as well.' the Bird could see Horace running back to the house.

'Please, Miss P.'

But then Victor came out. And when her three little children saw the boy, they all let go of her and ran to him at once.

'What is this, Victor?' Miss Peregrine asked, but her boy said nothing and just offered her a hand to help her stand up.

'I don't like that smile.' She raised her brow, trying to read the boy's face.

'It's nothing.' Victor told her. 'Nothing much.'

There was something. Otherwise, the twins and Claire wouldn't have run back to the house without her or him. But Alma knew better than to ask. He wouldn't tell her, she was certain.

'So can I come in now?'

'Sure, Miss. Of course, you can.'

She tilted her head a bit before beginning to walk back to the house. Victor followed her quietly, but she could sense that he was smiling. It wasn't that she didn't trust her wards, but this was way too mysterious. What were they really up to?

'It is a bit strange that today almost all of you decide to stay inside all afternoon.' She began the conversation, trying to be as normal as she could.

'Well, we just…don't want to go out, that's all.' Victor replied. His voice sounded higher than usual.

'I see.' Miss Peregrine took a deep breath to calm herself. She wasn't angry. But something unpredictable always made her feel nervous. Even though it was something her own children came up with.

When she reached the porch, she grabbed the knob and prepared to see something behind it. But when she opened the door, she found nothing. It was just her old hallway.

She stepped inside, sensing that it was too quiet. Usually, this hallway was always full of noises and sounds — Hugh running down the stairs, Horace talking to Millard, or once Claire even used to have her tea party here.

But today it was so…quiet.

No one was there.

'Victor?'

'Calm down, Miss. Don't kill me first.' He chuckled. 'I promise everything will be alright.'

But when his ymbryne still gave him a look, Victor cleared his throat and decided to give her a hint, at least.

'Perhaps, you should check the dining room.' He couldn't hold his smile. 'Might be something there.'

The Bird took a very serious look at him again before turning to face the door to the dining room. It was closed, and she didn't hear anything from the other side.

'Go on.' Victor said. 'Open it.'

And open the door she did.

At first, she saw nothing but when she walked inside—

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS PEREGRINE!'

* * *

She used to hear so many stories about what usually happens in the last second of our life.

Some say it's the longest.

Some say it's the shortest.

Some say it's the most precious.

Some say it's the scariest.

Some say it's a summary of everything that we have passed.

And some say it's nothing.

So many years ago, she agreed that it was nothing.

On that porch, in that cold night in Miss Avocet's old loop, all she really focused on were just her father and her mother somewhere behind the stars, waiting for her.

A second before death was nothing but a brick of a bridge that led her to them.

But now... but this moment…

It is their smiles.

It is her children's smiles.

It is their laughter.

It is them.

And suddenly, she just doesn't want to do this.

She wants to see them again.

All of them.

She wants to fly beside them to the end or at least until they no longer need her wings to protect them.

 _But you can't, Alma._

 _You can't._

Slowly she closed her eyes, trying to conjure that picture when all of them were standing before her, a cake topped with something she assumed to be a peregrine falcon doll on Emma's hands.

'Happy Birthday Miss Peregrine.'

'Happy one hundredth something birthday'

'Enoch!…Happy Birthday, Miss.'

'She is one hundred something years old this year, isn't she? From what we checked.'

'Enoch, enough. Happy Birthday, Miss. Thank you for everything.'

'You have to make a wish first before you blow the candles.'

'Cawwww'

'Millard! Put some clothes on!'

 _My dear children_ _,_

'Let it end…'

 _I don't want anything else but for you to grow up and live your life._

'Blow the candles!'

 _Thank you for the chance and everything that you've given me._

And she can feel its coldness on her temple.

 _Goodbye, my dearest ones._

'… with me.'

BANG

And everything turns red.

* * *

….. :)

You will not kill me, right? Hehe, I misbehaved I know so maybe, let's talk. Feel free to ask or comments or leave anything because no matter what it is, I'll definitely answer. ;) Thank youuu and love you.


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